Please Don't Say You Love Me ('Cause I Might Not Say It Back)
by Tamyou
Summary: 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.' AU where Stiles is mute and Derek is a college drop-out. This is how they met and... fell in love? Slow burn Sterek. BG Scallison and Jydia
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi guys. Well... I had this idea for a while (ever since Season3B's first episode where the whole class signed the riddle for Stiles) and finally decided to write it down.

This story is basically of the RomCom genre, but I feel like I should put on a warning of use and mention of ADHD, anxiety, Mutism and Apraxia. I don't claim to fully understand what it's like to live with any of them, but I tried my best to research all and write it as accurately as I can. If any of you spot some inaccuracy, I'll be more than happy to correct it.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

I hope you will enjoy this fic. Don't forget to leave a review!

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

_**I ran away in floods of shame,**_

_**I'll never tell how close I came, **_

_**As I crossed the Holland Road.**_

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure about this decision, Mr. Hale?"

Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the Dean of Admissions from across the desk, his fingers drumming on the chair's arm. It was a constant, annoying nervous noise. They were looking at each other silently, almost like a staring contest in which the winner gets to have the things his way. The Dean's left eyebrow gave a faint twitch, small, dark eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

After a few long seconds, a wolfish little smirk spread on Derek's lips. The drumming stopped.  
"Yes. I am."

"Very well." The Dean finally sighed in defeat, thin thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose under the frameless glasses he wore. He slid forwards a small pile of documents, handing the young man his pen. "Just sign these, and you'll be free to go." Derek took the pile silently, quickly adding his signature with thin, elegant letters.

"I must say," The Dean of Admissions sighed again. "I don't understand why you'd want to leave mid-semester. You are one of our brightest students. All this nonsense about not being fit for the jo-"

"I don't expect you to understand." Derek's quiet, calm voice cut in, and he slid the signed papers back and placed the pen down with a soft 'click', getting up and walking to the door. He paused there for a moment with his hand hovering over the handle, then turned his head to look at the old man sitting behind the desk. A rare, faint smile graced his lips when he said,

"But thanks anyway."

And then he left.

* * *

Packing was quicker than he originally thought and passed with the blink of an eye. Derek had no idea he had that few possessions, and was somewhat surprised to find that all of his things fit in a single - although still large - side-bag. He threw it over his shoulder and took one last look at the room he spent the last three years in, then pushed his cellphone into his back pocket and walked out, closing the door behind him.

He passed across a few people he knew, and a lot more that he didn't. Some were kind enough to respect his reasons for leaving and wished him good luck... some shook their heads in disappointment or disgust at his - in their opinion - stupidity and whispered gossips amongst themselves, as if he couldn't hear. And some - some simply ignored him. He nodded at the few of them he knew personally, squeezing hands and saying goodbyes as he passed through the crowded, noisy halls.

Finally out of the dorms, he could spot his car parking outside, black and elegant and silent like her owner. He climbed into the driver's seat, throwing his bag in the backseat and starting the car. For just a moment, he sat there in silence, hands flat on the wheel and eyes staring forwards without seeing, his heart slamming itself against his rib-cage nervously. _It is finally happening._ He then blinked himself awake and geared up, taking a deep breath, and within minutes he was passing the front gate with squeaking tires and heading out to the open road. He slid his windows down and let the wind blow his hair and wash all of his worries away, the music from his radio swallowed by the noise.

He was smiling now. He hadn't felt that much relief in a while.

He was free.

The drive back to Beacon Hills was long and tiring, and he had to stop for gas a few times before the sign informing him he was only 7 miles away from the town appeared at the side of the road. It didn't bother him though - he had music and he had his car and the open road, and that was the best thing he had in a long time.

It was already quite dark outside when he finally entered the small town's borders and drove slowly through the lively streets, watching a few groups of teenagers hanging out and laughing. He smiled to himself and turned down the music a little, wondering if his little brother was amongst them.

He hadn't seen Scott in over three years. Ever since he went out to college, his father never once came to visit, as he was too busy with his duties as an agent. Therefore, his teenaged brother couldn't come as well, and Derek didn't bother visiting home himself, being too pissed at his father.

When the familiar, tall, dark silhouette of the McCall house came into view, Derek's heart skipped a beat. Telling his dad over the phone of his intentions to drop out of college without finishing his psychology studies first was one thing, hard as it's been. But facing him now, after he actually took action... Derek dreaded that. There was bound to be a loud fight about it, that he wasn't too eager to begin.

He didn't want Scott to think badly of him.

Parking his car outside the house's garage, he stopped the engine and sighed, closing his eyes as his fingers fumbled with his car keys. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and opened the door, sliding out of his black Camaro and walking up the short, wide stairs and up to the front porch. He stood there in silence, his fist hesitantly hanging in the air for a second-

And then he knocked.

* * *

"What the Hell were you thinking?!"

Raphael McCall's voice boomed in the living room as Derek's jaw hardened, and his wife winced and closed her eyes for a second in disapproval at the loudness, dark and warm eyes watching Derek sympathetically. Melissa McCall was always good to him, and she never tried to take his mother's place in his life. She simply tried to give him enough attention and comfort, more like an aunt than a mother, providing an open door policy whenever her husband lost his temper with Derek. Derek appreciated that, and he held deep respect and fondness for her, as well as unlimited love for her son. His little brother.

His father was a whole different story. Never pleased, never accepting, and nothing was good enough. Derek tried. Oh, Heavens knows he tried. When he was much, much younger, he constantly tried making Rafe proud, to gain his respect. He felt like some sort of a burden back then, but then again, what teenager doesn't feel like that? After he left for college though, Derek grew up. He realized that whatever reason Rafe had for taking him in after his mother died, positive nor negative, it didn't really matter. He was grateful for having the chance to get to know his little brother, and that was enough encouragement to put up with his father.

"I told you I was gonna leave." Derek answered through gritted teeth, feet planted flat against the floor.

"I thought you were JOKING. That it was a PHASE!"

"Well, then you should've made sure! Are you seriously pinning YOUR wrong assumptions on ME? Next time, ASK me befo-"

"Enough!" Melissa's voice cut in firmly, stopping both of them. They stood there, glaring at each other with equal amounts of anger. "Cut it out, you two! So he left college, so what?" She glared at her husband, delicate eyebrows coming together in a frown. She could be downright scary when she wanted to. "If he wanna ruin his life, it's his decision, not ours." This time, she gave Derek a short, frightening glance that made the young man flinch and back away a little. His lips parted in protest.

"I didn't-"

"I don't care." Melissa stressed slowly, dangerously, before Derek could utter some more excuses. "It's none of our business. It's yours."

"But honey-"

"No."

"...fine." Rafe grumbled in defeat, and Melissa looked somewhat pleased, even though still pissed.

"Now, what should I make for dinner?" She huffed when the two men stopped looking like they were going to jump each other's throat. "It's late, but we were waiting for you, sweetheart." She flushed Derek a reassuring smile. "Scott should be here any minute now."

* * *

"I should really get going," Scott sighed and paused the game, putting down his controller. Stiles looked up at him in disappointment with big brown eyes, a thin and long stick of liquorice still hanging from his lips.

"Don't give me that Bambi look," Scott rolled his eyes as Stiles started pouting and batting his eyelashes comically, his wide, whiskey eyes staring at his friend with a look that was meant to melt him. Unfortunately, it only served to make Scott huff and snort at him in amusement.

"You know it doesn't work on me."

Stiles dropped the look and frowned, narrowed eyes looking away from Scott. The other teen sighed.

"Seriously?" Scott asked with an arched eyebrow. "Are you seriously trying to pull the 'I'm not talking to you' thing off now? Because we both know you can't stay mad at me for more than two minutes." At that, Stiles turned back to him with a huff and a glare that lasted less than a second. He brought his hands up and moved his fingers with swift motions, watching the small smirk that spread on Scott's face.

"You calling me an asshole?" He snorted. "Excuse me, but you are the one trying to keep me from seeing my brother."

Stiles paused, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. **Your brother is back in town?** He asked, fingers twitching frantically in front of his body. Scott nodded.

"He should actually be here already. Mom said we are gonna have a late dinner tonight because of it. Some sort of a 'Welcome Home' dinner-thing." He shrugged, trying to look uncaring. But Stiles knew how much Scott adored his older brother, and so he made a shooing gesture with his hands, smirking.

**Then what are you waiting for?** Stiles grinned widely as he signed, his hands moving almost too fast for Scott to follow. **Go!**

Scott responded with a wide smile of his own, hand momentarily patting Stiles' shoulder before he picked up his bag and hurried towards Stiles' bedroom door.

He turned around for a second, giving his best friend another happy glance before calling out a quick, "Thanks, buddy. You are the best!" And then he bolted outside.

* * *

_**Wrap up your questions, keep them down.**_

_**Let the water lead us home.**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Home" / Mumford and Sons.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Oh my God. I did NOT expect that much of response to this fic. Thank you so much for all the kind messages, guys! And to all of you who favorite/follow this story, too. I'm so glad you like it that much.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

_**And when the night is falling,**_

_**Down the sky at midnight.**_

_**Another year is stalling,**_

_**Far away a good bye, good night.**_

* * *

A soft knock on his door made Derek jump. Frowning, he stopped drying his hair and moved to lower the music that played on his laptop, throwing the towel aside to land on his bed as he gripped the handle and opened his bedroom door only to reveal Scott's smiling face grinning up at him.

"Hi." Derek said, blinking slowly. Scott's grin widened and his eyes twinkled in mischief.

"Whatcha doin'...?" He asked and leaned against the doorframe, pulling at the words in a frightening sing-song voice. Derek huffed. As if he didn't know. He turned back around, shuffling through his closet in search of a decent shirt.

"Getting ready for the spring party my way-too-geeky-brother won't come to because it's a 'school night'." Derek smirked and glanced back at his little brother, watching the shit-eating grin slide off Scott's face. "Seriously, Scott. It's probably the only good tradition this town ever had, and you're gonna miss it?"

"Well, but it _is_ a school night." The younger brother said in a defensive tone, crossing his arms over his chest as he approached Derek's bed and dropped on it with a soft 'oof' sound. "We don't get April's fools day off, and I really can't afford to miss any more classes. I'm doing bad enough as it is."

"Really...?" Derek stopped his search in the closet and frowned again, and his brow creased as he was watching his little brother with a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else Scott could not name exactly. "Dad never told me-"

"That I suck at school?" Scott snorted, untangling his arms and leaning back, dark brown eyes still focused on his big brother. "Yeah, not exactly something he likes to brag about. I'm not as smart as you, big brother." He smiled, though Derek could see the corners of his mouth twitching down, as if he had to fight to keep the smile intact.

"Yes, you are." Derek growled in response, low and dark and pissed. He approached the bed and leaned down, his fingers itching to grab a handful of Scott's shirt and shake him. "Listen to me, dumbass. You are not stupid, or useless, or a failure. No matter what that asshat think. You hear me?" He said slowly, his expression dangerous and his fist suddenly gripping at the front of Scott's shirt. No one would make his brother feel worthless.

Scott nodded, wide brown eyes staring into green in admiration.

"Yeah... yeah." He finally mumbled.

"Good." Derek huffed, letting go of Scott's gray T-shirt and straightening up, walking towards his mirror. He ran a hand through his still wet hair, dark eyebrows coming together in a frown. "Now, don't you have anything better to do than bothering me while I'm getting ready?"

"Nope." Scott's teasing smile was growing again, and in the mirror he saw an almost invisible smile softening Derek's grave expression. "Not really."

"Of course not." Derek said, closing his eyes for a second and huffing out a laugh.

Finding the courage to face his father after dropping out was worth it, Derek decided. It was worth it, because he got to come back home, to see his little brother... to have this, whatever it was. After all, Scott was his everything.

"Derek?"

"What."

"...thanks."

Yeah. Definitely. He's worth it.

* * *

"Stiles! Stiles!"

Lydia's chirpy voice was almost inaudible comparing to the loud booming music, but Stiles still turned around and cocked his head in question, watching the strawberry-blonde girl making her way towards him through the crowded hall.

"Don't disappear like that," She called in her shrill voice, scolding him with her full lips pulled in a cute pout. Stiles smiled.

**Why. Are you scared?** He waved his hands quickly, teasingly smirking down at her with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't take that tone with me!" She squeaked and crossed her arms across her chest, delicate eyebrows coming together in a pouty frown. She glanced around at the crowded room, eyes flicking nervously back to Stiles. "...I just don't want to lose you."

Stiles placed a hand over his heart, lips parting in a mocking expression of wonder. Batting his eyelashes at her he let out a short laugh, and she punched his arm, snickering.

"You, are a jackass." She huffed loudly and shook her head, her tone final. "You know what I mean."

**Yeah, yeah.** Stiles waved his hand lightly, rolling his eyes.

"Did you see where Isaac went?" She chirped and looked around again, her finger drumming worriedly on her crossed arm. Stiles shook his head, and chuckled darkly.

**Probably still looking for his hook-up of tonight.** He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You are disgusting!"

**Oh, don't pout.** Stiles motioned with a wide grin. **Someone might fall in love with your smile.** He glanced up, eyes wandering towards a tall, handsome dirty-blond guy who stood next to the snack table, surrounded by a few of the other guys from their Lacrosse team. Jackson Whittemore, his name was, and Stiles knew he was Lydia's latest crush. She saw where his gaze went, and a pale blush crept onto her cheeks, her breath hitching.

"You think?" She asked, her green eyes wide, and Stiles couldn't even hear her over the music anymore. He smirked and elbowed her gently, nodding his head at Jackson.

**Come on,** He motioned encouragingly, gestures wide and enthusiastic. **You look beautiful tonight. Go out there and break some hearts.**

Apparently, this was all the pep-talk Lydia needed, and so she turned her head to Stiles and flashed him her brightest, most beautiful smile and straightened up, brushing at her dark blue dress. Her strawberry-blonde hair bounced back as she turned her back to him with a swing and marched forwards, hips swaying and heels clicking quickly.

Stiles watched as she cockily tapped at Whittemore's shoulder, silently laughing to himself as Lydia pretty much dragged a very stunned Jackson behind her to the dance floor and bossily hooked her arms around his waist. She really was something, Stiles thought and turned around and went to get himself a drink.

With a large cup of Jack-and-Coke, Stiles made his way around the crowded, loud halls and found himself drifting out onto a balcony he didn't even know was there, thankful for the fresh air and the lack of booming music that he could still faintly hear playing behind the glass doors. He leaned forwards onto the metal rail, his half empty cup hanging loosely from his hand, staring up at the bright full moon. His leg lightly bounced to the beat of the music from inside as he was watching the soft silver light that was washing over the grass surrounding the theatre, and Stiles smiled down as people of all ages still kept showing up for the party.

He sighed contentedly. This year's spring party really was something.

Yeah...

His mind was already slightly buzzing, and he closed his eyes to shake it off. It was way too early for him to be that drunk.

When he opened his eyes again, everything seemed to slow down.

The light that suddenly washed the loan was bright and blinding, and when it was abruptly turned off Stiles could see a beautiful black Camaro parked at the side of the road. With his cup almost dropping out of his grip and eyes still glued to the driver's door, he impatiently waited to see who it was that was driving this kickass car. No one in this town drove a car like that.

And when the door opened and the guy slid out of the car with fluid motions, lean shoulders trapped in an elegant leather jacket and face like a Greek God... Stiles couldn't stop himself from nervously licking his lips.

_Oh my God,_ He thought. His heart rate picking up, he swallowed hard as the guy slammed his door shut and glanced up as if he knew Stiles was staring, his eyes landing right on Stiles.

His breath hitched.

_He's fucking gorgeous._

* * *

_**And when the cold wind's blowing, **_

_**Snow drifts through the Pine trees.**_

_**In houses lights are glowing, **_

_**Likewise in your eyes that find me here.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Song used: "All That I Want" / The Weepies.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you so much guys, for all the comments and faves and follows :) I appreciate it so much I updated a day earlier than I planned to, just for you, because you guys are awesome and sweet and, yeah. Enjoy!

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

_**I let the day go by**__**  
**__**I always say goodbye.**__**  
**__**I watch the stars from my window sill,**__**  
**__**The whole world is moving and I'm standing still.**_

* * *

_Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...!_ Stiles frantically thought and backed away from the rail as the guy's eyes kept staying focused on him, almost dropping his drink while flailing back inside, abandoning the balcony.

His pulse was way faster than should be normal, breath hitching and heart fluttering in excitement thinking about that illegally handsome face. He was wearing a leather jacket, for crying out loud. Oh God. As if Stiles needed any farther reason to be attracted to the guy.

Pushing past all the chatting and dancing people through the crowded halls and completely ignoring the disapproving comments some threw at him, he made his way towards one of the less-loud rooms. He spotted a tall, curly-haired guy seductively cornering a pretty dark skinned girl from Stiles' math class, one arm pinning her to the wall as he leaned close to her personal space and smirked while she talked. Stiles sighed in relief. Just as he thought, Isaac Lahey always found the perfect private places to take his girls to. Good thing he was so predictable.

Stiles approached him quickly, tapping at his shoulder repeatedly as Isaac sighed and rolled his eyes, turning around to face Stiles with a swift and sharp motion.

"What!" He barked.

**I need your help.** Stiles waved his hands so fast Isaac almost missed the point.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Isaac said dryly, eyebrows coming together. "But I'm kind of busy at the moment." His chin pointed not-so-subtly at the girl he had against the wall, who looked at Stiles as if he was a very bothersome fly she was dying to squish. Stiles huffed out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his head.

**Yeah, I know, man.** He motioned with emphasis, blinking quickly as he glanced around the room. He brought his fist down onto his right palm with a harsher movement, urgent. **But I really, really need your help.**

"Can't Lydia do that instead?" Isaac sighed again as he tried his last resort and his hand dropped from the wall, but Stiles knew he already agreed.

**Can't find her.**

"Fine." Isaac hung his head for a moment and gave the girl - Stiles was pretty sure her name was Sasha - a short, apologetic look before turning back and following Stiles out of the room.

"Now," Isaac stopped right outside the door and slammed it shut, crossing his arms over his chest and giving his friend a narrowed, suspicious look. "What is so important you had to C-block me like that?"

Stiles shuffled nervously, trying to give Isaac an uncaring smile but failing miserably. It came off as lame and embarrassed, so Isaac just cocked an eyebrow. "Well?" He prompted.

**I need you to find out who that guy is,** Stiles motioned looking anywhere but in Isaac's eyes, a pale blush crawling up his neck. **I've never seen him in this town.** Stiles paused, fingers fumbling for a second before he continued quickly. **He looked right at me, you know? With that weird look, like he's gonna eat me alive, and I'm freaking out! Also, he was very good looking, but also kind of dangerous and I need to know who he is before-**

"Okay, okay I get it," Isaac placed his palm over Stiles' frantic hands, cutting his rambling off. "You've got a little crush going on over there-" He waved his hand lightly, gesturing at Stiles' direction and ignoring the annoyed huff the other boy let out in protest. "And okay. I'll ask around, see if anyone knows who he is. But first, we need to find him." Isaac sighed tiredly. "Show me who it is that caught your heart, Juliet." He smirked then. Stiles frowned and punched his arm, lips moving strangely, as if searching for his voice.

"A-uh" He tried, growling as he struggled around the sounds to get the word out. "Auh... sss, o- h-ho-l...l." He finished, panting and glaring daggers at his friend who waited patiently for him to throw his insult.

Isaac snorted, patting Stiles' back fondly. "Yeah, I am. Don't hurt yourself." He snickered, walking towards the crowded hall. "You coming or what?" He called.

Laughing, Isaac knew exactly what the middle finger Stiles aimed at him meant, sign language or not.

* * *

His leg bounced nervously as he waited at the farthest corner of the hall, completely out of sync with the music. He glanced around in expectation, spotting Lydia who was apparently intensively and shamelessly making out with Jackson Whittemore next to the D.J. station. He would have laughed if it wasn't for his stomach that was currently busy turning in excitement.

Stiles' eyes shot up when he saw Isaac re-appear behind the snack table and quickly walking towards Stiles, shaking his head. Stiles' heart dropped, and his hands flashed forwards quick and eager, **Well?**

"Nothing!" Isaac shouted over the music as soon as he was within hearing distance. "No one knows who he is. At least not anyone I asked."

Stiles' lips formed a silent 'oh', shoulders dropping in disappointment.

"I saw him when I went upstairs earlier, and you weren't lying - he is quite the looker." Isaac commented, leaning against the wall next to Stiles and crossing his arms, watching the couples swaying on the dance floor as a calmer song came along. "You have good taste in men, I'll give you that."

**Of course I do. Are you surprised?** Stiles gestured, arrogantly smirking up at the taller boy. Isaac shrugged.

"Well. If my services are no longer required, may I go back to my date?" He asked. "That is, if she's still here."

Stiles sighed. **I suppose there is no reason for you not to.** He waved slowly.

"Thanks." Isaac said and smiled reassuringly at Stiles as he detached himself from the wall and moved away. "Don't worry, buddy. He doesn't seem like a mass murderer."

**I hope you're right.**

And then he was alone again.

Isaac was gone, and when Stiles looked around again, he couldn't find Lydia nor Jackson anymore. The music changed again to a quicker, much louder song that he recognized as a Rolling Stones' and Stiles shook his head and went to get another drink, determined to not let his worries ruin the spring party for him.

His leg bounced in time with the catchy, jumpy song and he smiled as he watched people gather up on the dance floor to twist to the sound of the old music. He was just about to take a sip from his drink when a hand tapped lightly on his shoulder and he turned around, expecting to see Isaac there. He almost choked on his drink though when his eyes met electric-green, widening in surprise as he coughed to get his breath back.

"Would you like to dance...!" The guy in the leather jacket from before was grinning wolfishly down at him, barely heard over the way-too-loud music. Stiles stared at him suspiciously and tilted his head slightly in question, his eyes narrowed and heart racing.

"Oh, come on!" The guy smirked, taking the cup out of Stiles' hand and putting it aside before grabbing his hand. "It's a great song!"

Stiles hesitated. Up close and smiling, this mysterious guy didn't look much like a serial killer, and Stiles finally nodded, following him up to the dance floor. He could feel the lower beats of the jumpy music thump inside his chest, making his body ache to move and he squared his shoulders high. One dance, that's all he's gonna get, Stiles decided.

They were instantly swallowed by the crowd and the fast music. The guy was holding surprisingly gently onto Stiles' arm, swinging and twisting and swaying to the beats of music with such grace Stiles felt himself like he had sacks tied to his feet. Much to his embarrassment he tripped over nothing at least twice, and each time his dancing partner saved him from smashing his face on the floor with swift motions. He was smiling at Stiles nonetheless, trying to make him feel at ease.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't trust me?" The leather jacket guy shouted over the music, leaning into Stiles' ear. Stiles pulled away and eyed him suspiciously, eyebrows coming together in a frown. He shook his head and waved a hand around his ear to signal he wasn't going to yell back.

Not that he could.

Instead, he allowed himself to relax a bit and placed a hand on the guy's left shoulder, balancing himself as well as letting him know Stiles no longer thought he was going to murder him. He gave him a hesitant, shy smile, making the wolfish grin the guy wore widen instantly. It made his heart give an excited thump, and a faint shiver went through his body as they bounced to the beat of music.

Just when Stiles managed to get the hang of it though, the jumpy song ended and was replaced by a slower one, and the quiet melody of guitars and a piano filled the room. Couples were drawing closer to each other, their one dance was up, and Stiles was about to move away when the guy's strong arms suddenly pulled him close.

Stiles blinked in surprise, lips slightly parted with a soft gasp and a blush tinting his cheeks as those arms snuck around him, settling on his waist and pulling him flush against the leather guy's chest. The smirk he gave Stiles was cocky and suggestive, eyebrows arching up in expectation. Stiles kept his eyes fixated on the rise and fall of the man's chest as his blush turned deeper and darker, his heart racing, he placed his own arms around the guy's neck and back. One more dance, Stiles convinced himself. Just one more dance, and they're done.

They rocked gently to the soft sound of guitars, leaning closer and breathing slowly. Neither of them spoke or attempted to move away, and Stiles tried to regain some control over his rapid pulse as the guy's rough cheek almost brushed against his temple. He ran his fingers gently over the back of the guy's neck, feeling him shiver slightly under his touch.

"Weave, weave, weave me the sunshine out of the falling rain," The guy whispered in Stiles' ear in time with the song, making the teen suck in a breath and swallow hard as he felt the words on his skin more than heard them.

"Why did you run away?" The quiet voice whispered in his ear, warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of his neck and Stiles shuddered, tensing. He stayed silent, and he could feel the way the body beside him stiffened slightly, the warm breath disappearing as he pulled away. The guy looked into his eyes, searching for something with confusion written all over his face.

"It's okay," He said slowly, and Stiles could see disappointment hidden in those amazing green eyes as his hands reluctantly started sliding off of Stiles' waist. "We don't have to do... this." He gestured with one hand at the tiny space between them. "If you don't want."

Stiles winced. He started to kinda feel bad about the cold shoulder he gave the poor guy, while he was just trying to flirt with him. He tried to offer up a weak smile and a reassuring hand, but when that didn't bring the wolfish grin back, Stiles bit his lip and glanced around with a fluttering stomach, nervousness settling in and his heart pounding too fast at the idea that popped to his mind.

He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and quickly leaned up, placing a short, soft kiss on the guy's lips.

The surprised moan he got from him made Stiles grin against the soft lips even before he opened his eyes again, and he barely had time to catch his breath when the man attacked his lips right back, inhaling sharply as his hand grabbed and tagged at the fabric of the back of Stiles' shirt.

"Wow..." The guy mumbled breathlessly when they pulled apart, and Stiles nodded in agreement, breathing deeply in an attempt to get rid of the blush he knew was on his face. It was a perfect first kiss, and Stiles didn't want it to end, his mouth still lingering close to the other's lips. The guy reached up, the back of his hand gently tracing Stiles' jaw-line as the boy looked down shyly, eyes focusing only on his lips, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

Stiles blinked slowly, still in some kind of a glow. The song had changed again while they kissed, but they didn't even notice. A flash of strawberry-blonde hair caught his attention, and suddenly Lydia was smiling and waving at him with Isaac by her side, who was tapping at his watch impatiently. He waved back, and couldn't see Jackson anywhere, figuring he already left as well. Sighing, Stiles knew they were probably right - it was pretty late already, and he had to get up for school tomorrow morning, even though he had no idea how he was gonna do it. Maybe Scott was right to stay home tonight...

But he didn't want to leave just yet...

He looked up, as if suddenly remembering he was not alone. The guy gave him a questioning look when Stiles was suddenly ripped away from his arms by Lydia, who showed up next to them like a ghost.

Man, that girl had a grip.

Stiles shot him a quick, apologetic look while Lydia pulled at his arm and yelled a short, "Sorry about the C-block!" At the poor guy before marching away with Stiles at her heels. The man stared at them in total confusion and a bit of embarrassment, shifting uncomfortably.

"W-wait!" He tried to call after him, but the music was too loud and Lydia and Isaac were already disappearing in the crowd, with Stiles dragging behind them. "I don't even know your name...!"

He sighed when no one came back running, and glanced around, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Looking down in disappointment, he chewed at inside of his cheek.

"...I'm Derek, by the way." He mumbled to no one, then slowly turned away and left the place grumpily.

This party sucked anyway.

* * *

_**I thought of you and where you'd gone,**__**  
**__**And the world spins madly on.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Warnings: Some kind of stress, maybe? Not exactly? Isaac being a complete asshole. Yeah, that's a warning. I guess.

Song used: "World Spins Madly On" / The Weepies.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Okay. So in this chapter we are going to have plot :) how great is that? So proud. Thanks again for all of you wonderful people who took their time to read this, I love you all so much :)

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

_**Now you do it on your own,**_

_**But you find you're all alone,**_

_**What can you do?**_

* * *

"...ant to tell me what the sun might represent in this story?" Mrs. Collins stopped pacing in front of her desk and smiled when her favorite student's hand shot up, as usual. "Mr. Stilinski."

"_I think it can represent the shallow view of everything that surrounding the hero,_" Erica Reyes answered slowly as she followed the fast and eager movements of Stiles' hands. "_The yellow is everywhere, in Muriel's hair, the sun, the sand, the Banana fish. Everything that Sybil isn't, that Seymour hates, that he's afraid of-_ Stiles, please slow down...!" The blonde sighed, and Scott chuckled from the seat behind them, playing with his pen and doodling tiny hearts on his notebook around the name, 'Allison.'

**Sorry...** Stiles rubbed his chest quickly and sheepishly before continuing, slower this time, as Erica interpreted. "_It's everything that Seymour is afraid of, that the lack of humanity and emotion that the yellow and therefore the sun represent will swallow him._" Stiles stopped, his hands resting back on his desk as Erica finished voicing his answer. Mrs. Collins hummed for a second, then flashed him a pleased and wide smile, and Stiles relaxed.

"Very good, Mr. Stilinski," She said, returning to her pacing across the room. "I hope you were listening there, Greenberg. Because you will be tested about that." She said and paused again, watching the snoring student. All eyes were turning to the poor kid who jumped awake at the back of the class. A few chuckled, a few sighed, and Mrs. Collins looked downright exhausted.

"Alright. For next week-" The bell rang suddenly, shrill and loud, cutting the teacher off as everyone started happily shoving their notes back into their bags. "For next week, everyone write a two paged essay about the symbolic meaning of the colors in the story!" She yelled above the noise, watching her students bolt outside one by one.

Stiles got up slowly, casually pushing his books back into his bag as he waited for Scott to stop doodling all over his papers. He placed a hand on top of the page, smirking when Scott's brown eyes shot up to look at him in surprise, as if he forgot where he was.

**You okay there, C-A-S-A-N-O-V-A?** Stiles flicked quickly, making Erica chuckle and Scott blush a little. **Come on, class is over and I'm starving.**

They left the classroom quickly after that, Erica following Stiles like a pretty, tall and busty shadow with flowing blond hair. Everyone at school were already used to Stilinski's gorgeous interpreter by now, but still there were always the occasional stares at her breasts when they crossed the halls.

At the cafeteria, Lydia and Allison were already saving them seats as a tired looking Isaac slid his tray across the table, sitting smugly next to Allison and lazily shoving a fry in his mouth. Scott sighed gloomily and placed his own tray across from them, sitting next to Lydia in disappointment and leaving Stiles to grab a chair at the head of the table as Erica lingered next to the desserts. Allison flashed him a smile, nudging him lightly.

"How was the party?" She asked him, winking at the strawberry-blonde in front of her. "Lydia told me you all hooked up last night, and as much as I'm not surprised about Lyds and Isaac..." Allison trailed off, nodding suggestively at Stiles, a goofy grin on her lips. The boy coughed.

**Yes, I met someone. And yes, we danced a bit. No big deal.** His gestures were nervous and shy, and he dared not look at anyone's eyes as they were all smirking smugly at him.

"Looked more than just dancing from where I was standing," Lydia said in a sing-song voice, lightly nibbling on a piece of carrot.

"Wait, really?!" Allison's eyes lit up and she watched Stiles eagerly, who started choking on his pasta. "Gimme the details."

**Guys, just let it go...!** He motioned back, coughing. He banged his forehead on the table and ran a hand over his face with a sigh.

"He was pretty hot," It was Isaac's turn to contribute to the conversation. Stiles blushed.

"Did you kiss?"

"What's his name?"

"Did you get his number?"

"Was he really that hot?"

A loud groan shut them up and Stiles shook his head in irritation, hands shooting up quickly and annoyingly as he tried really hard to get rid of the pink on his cheeks. **We met. We danced. We kissed. I left. That's all there is to tell.** Silence followed the pissed off speech, until Scott was the first one brave enough to break it.

"So..." He said slowly, putting down his fork and leaning forwards, carefully watching his flustered best friend. "You're telling me you basically just pulled a Cinderella on him? With the glass shoe and running away at midnight and everything?"

He had to duck to avoid the forkful of pasta that flew at his direction.

* * *

"So, you have no experience in sales?"

"No." Derek leaned back in his chair, leg bouncing ever so slightly. This has apparently become a habit, him sitting in front of a desk and a serious face. "I was recently a psychology student, but I left my studies because of private reasons. Before that I used to work in a garage and a library. I'm responsible and hard working and I am not afraid to get my hands dirty." He answered flatly, no hint of emotion in his voice as he leaned a bit forwards, looking the manager straight in the eye. "I lack the experience you are looking for, but I'm willing to work hard."

"You do realize this is a record shop and that this requires some knowledge and social skills?"

For the first time today, a small smirk flashed across Derek's face. "Are you kidding me? I love music." He said. Sid Richards, the manager, arched an eyebrow in interest.

"Really?" He asked. "Are you playing on anything?" Derek shook his head and chuckled, feeling more at ease now that the conversation shifted into more comfortable matters.

"I had a phase when I was younger where I taught myself guitar, and another where I thought I might try and be a pianist," He admitted with a smirk, his leg drumming lightly against the tiles. "Now, I'm actually more of a shower-singer." Sid barked out a laugh.

"You and me both, kid." He said with a smile. His face then turned somewhat more serious, even though he still had a hint of a smile ghosting over his thin lips. He fumbled his fingers together on his desk, straightening a few documents. "Look." He started. "You seem like a serious guy, and we _are_ in a need of more workers. I'm willing to give you a shot despite your background." He gave Derek another smile. "Don't let me down."

"Thank you, sir. I won't." Derek replied, returning the smile.

"Oh, please." Mr. Richards said and got up. "Everyone call me Sid." He waved him off lightly, walking towards the door of his stuffy office. "Come on, son. Let's introduce you to the gang."

They left the small room, Derek following Sid out to the much larger space of the record shop. He heard low music and laughing and a shrill voice exclaiming something he didn't catch, and Sid turned to him and flashed him a smile. "These are the twins, Ethan and Aiden." He gestured towards two identical tall boys who stood by the cashiers, waving at Derek as they heard their names. He waved back.

"No need to introduce me," A toxic female voice suddenly said and Derek's eyes shot up to see tall woman appearing from behind one of the shelves. She had a sharp smirk on, and her hair and skin were dark and exotic. She wore a loose black tank top and tight dark jeans, and Derek could feel bits and pieces of something like power and edge radiating from her. "I'm Kali." She said and offered her hand for Derek to shake. He took it firmly, staring at her with a blank expression.

"Derek." He said shortly, before Sid cleared his throat and interrupted their hard staring contest.

"That lovely lady over there is Jennifer," Derek looked away from

Kali with relief and withdrew his hand, following Sid's gaze that fell on a young, pretty brunette, who slightly blushed when she noticed Derek's stare. She flashed him a bright smile, waving shyly.

"Hi," She said, and her blush darkened when Derek smiled back at her politely. She was cute and pretty, Derek thought. But she was no match to the boy he met at the party. For some reason, Derek couldn't get him out of his head. He sighed, turning around when he noticed someone was talking to him.

"I'm Matt." A short teen with a gloomy expression said as he glanced at them from his place by the headphones station. Derek gave him a nod, waving two fingers in a somewhat forced greeting. He didn't think he'd grow to like this kid much. He was good-looking, blue-eyed and quite attractive, but something about him seemed... off, even though Derek couldn't exactly point out what.

"That's about it," Sid said nonchalantly and took out a small and over-used handkerchief and wiped at his sweaty forehead, smiling at the group. "You'd probably meet Jackson later," He told Derek. "He's out on a delivery right now. He and Matt are working part-time, since they both are still high-schoolers. Which reminds me," He turned to Matt with a frown. "What are you still doing here, son?"

Matt shrugged, eyes flicking to Sid for a brief moment. "Free period. I need the money."

"You see, Matt here is a photographer," One of the twins - Derek wasn't sure which one, but if he had to guess he'd have said Aiden - leaned forwards on the counter and gave Derek a wide smirk, eyes flicking to Matt, who ignored them with squared shoulders and chin held high. "And spends most of his salary on new lens and cameras and stuff."

"We are just here until we start college," His twin said with a slightly kinder smile. "Jen's been here since probably forever, and honestly I'm too scared to ask Kali anything."

"Oh, don't be scared, big boy." Kali hummed with the weird, hypnotizing smirk still on, and Ethan - yeah, it was probably Ethan, Derek thought - faked a shudder, winking at her.

Derek watched the interaction carefully, not sure where things were being said as a joke and where it was serious. He never had that many friends, never had to deal with that kind of relationship. After his mother died he lost touch with his childhood friends and focused solely on his little brother. Then, during college he sort of became a lone wolf, not interacting with anyone longer than necessary - the boy he kissed at the spring party was an exception Derek did not foresee. College was a pretty bad time for him, after all. He was glad to leave.

But maybe, this small group of strange and unique people was just what he needed to open up again. Maybe, if he could just find that boy again...

Maybe there was still hope for him yet.

* * *

_**I can't really say**_

_**Why everybody wishes they were somewhere else.**_

_**But in the end, the only steps that matter**_

_**Are the ones you take all by yourself.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Song used: "Can't Go Back Now" / The Weepies.

Plus, in case you were wondering, the short story Stiles referenced to was "A Perfect Day For Bananafish." by J. D. Salinger. It was my all-times favorite story growing up.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Okay then. I've heard a bunch of theories of how you think Derek and Stiles are going to meet again :) Well, wait no more.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

_**Little darling,**_

_**The smiles returning to the faces.**_

_**Little darling,**_

_**It seems like years since it's been here.**_

* * *

The sound of fried chicken hissing alarmingly in the pan made Sheriff Stilinski turn around in seconds while cursing under his breath as he took the pan off the stove and practically dropped it on the counter.

"Hot, hot-hot-hot! Damn it!" He flinched at the sight of the smoking burnt food, reaching for the wooden spoon and stirring the rice he attempted to cook. He turned everything off and placed the spoon back on the counter, pulling two plates out of the cupboard. He placed them on the table and put the bowl of fresh salad between them, eyeing his work with a tired sigh. Good enough.

Stiles' birthday was due in three days, and the Sheriff decided - as he did every year - to make the week before his son's birthday seem like a vacation. He cooked all of Stiles' favorite meals - or at least tried to, as it was Stiles who usually took care of food, and he ignored curfew and took days off to spend them with his son, and he smiled. All the time. That was Stiles' favorite part.

"Stiles!" The Sheriff called from the bottom of the stairs, placing his hand on top of the rail. "Dinner!" He heard some shuffling from upstairs and something hit the floor before Stiles' round, smiling face appeared and looked down at his father, and he ran down the stairs with a large grin.

**What's for dinner?** He signed quickly, sniffing the air curiously. The Sheriff shook his head.

"I tried making some rice and fried chicken but I think I kinda overcooked it." He said, scratching the back of his head with an awkward, tilted smile as they entered the kitchen, and Stiles stared at the almost burnt chicken.

**It's lovely.** He signed, his expression blank, and the Sheriff sighed.

"Sorry."

**It's fine, dad.** Stiles smiled at him, bringing his fist to his lips and sweeping it down briefly. **I love it.**

"You're just being awfully kind," The Sheriff smiled and sat down next to the table, waiting for Stiles to do the same. He filled their plates, watching as Stiles took the first bite. He seemed to have troubles chewing it, and the Sheriff chuckled at the frown his son wore as he fought his food, taking a bite as well. "My God, that's terrible...!" He laughed, and Stiles snorted into his plate, covering his mouth as he coughed and laughed and choked at the same time.

After that, that night quickly turned out to what seemed to be pizza night.

* * *

"Grab that box and put the records back in place, would you?" One of the twins, which Derek was now sure was Ethan - he was nicer than Aiden and not as cocky - asked as he picked up a box of his own, pointing his chin at the other that rested near the wall behind the counter. He was nice, Derek thought. And his smile was a wide and awkward one, and reminded him of that beautiful boy he kissed less than a week ago. Derek nodded, moving to take the box when a quiet ring sounded as the front door opened and closed.

"Ethan?" Derek called and gave the man who just entered a tiny, apologetic smile. "Costumer."

"Could you assist them?" Ethan poked his head fron behind one of the shelves, waving an 'Everly Brothers' record at them. "I kinda have my hands full here." Derek nodded again, and Ethan disappeared back.

"Can I help you with anything?" Derek asked, watching Sheriff Stilinski wander around the shelves.

"Yeah," He said as Derek quickly approached him. "My son is turning eighteen in a couple of days. I'm looking for something classic that would still be considered, um, 'young and hip' today, for him... could you...?" He smiled awkwardly around the words, aware of how ridiculous he sounded, and Derek could help but smile back, however faint that was.

"Sure." He nodded once and started walking along the rows slowly, pointing out records he thought would be interesting for an eighteen year old boy. "Michael Jackson? Kids still listen to him."

The sheriff shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that one." He said. "My son used to dance 'Thriller' as a kid, but that's about all the interest he ever showed." Derek chuckled, then hummed quietly to himself in thought, tapping at his elbow.

"Classic rock, maybe?" He suggested, pulling a few cases from the shelf behind him. "We have a few of the greatest hits. Led Zepplin, Deep Purple, Guns and Ro-"

"No, no." The sheriff waved his hand before sticking it in his jacket pocket. "Sorry." He muttered. "But my son likes... calmer music."

"Beethoven?"

"Not _that_ calm."

"Okay then," Derek finally gave up and handed the sheriff a shiny record case of _Abbey Road_, smiling. "You can never go wrong with The Beatles."

Sheriff Stilinski took it with raised eyebrows, curiously flipping the case in his hands a few times before stopping to read the list of the songs. He smiled. "It's perfect." He told Derek, waving the record lightly. "Thanks, son."

"Anytime."

* * *

Dinner that evening was quiet.

Raphael was apparently in a sore mood, having had a long and stressful day at the station. He went on and on about how he had to work with Stilinski on some case, and how he couldn't stand the guy and his 'bossy attitude', as he put it. It made Scott frown and bury his face farther into his plate, silent and gloomy. Derek watched quietly. He couldn't exactly point out why, but the whole thing pissed him off. Somehow, the things their father said about Beacon Hills' sheriff upset Scott, and Derek was having none of it. He cocked an eyebrow, growling something about the sheriff being a good man. In his opinion, he really was.

Scott and Melissa flinched, as Rafe placed his fork down and stared at Derek with a sour expression, as if someone made him suck a lemon. Derek equally glared back, not saying another word.

Melissa coughed, breaking the silent fight, and started blabbing about her day at work, attempting to make light conversation. Scott tried to cooperated with her failed discussion, but all he managed to accomplish sounded awkward and nervous. It didn't work quite well, as Rafe simply turned to glare at his mashed potatoes instead of at his eldest son. But Derek appreciated the gesture the two made. He was really not in the mood for a fight.

That guy from the party... Derek couldn't think of anything else beside him. It was ridiculous, actually - he danced with him for less than twenty minutes, and they had barely talked at all. But his lips... his lips were soft and so sweet, and Made Derek long for more. He liked his eyes with their dark whisky color and the dark eyelashes that framed them so beautifully. He liked everything.

And yes, Derek had had experienced crushes before. Admittedly, it usually happened around girls, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to appreciate a good looking guy when he saw one. But this? This was the first time he felt more than simple attraction. When this boy looked down at him from his place up on that worn out balcony, Derek honestly thought he was gonna throw up. His stomach fluttered nervously and excitedly, making his heart beat faster than should be normal and his breath hitch.

And then... when he finally found him in the crowd, standing there by himself... Derek couldn't help it. He coaxed him into dancing with him, and they kissed. The most perfect first kiss. It was also the first time Derek ever kissed a guy... and it was amazing.

But then he left. No name, no clue of who he was or where could Derek find him. He needed to see him again - desperately - and the thought kept him so busy he couldn't help the grim expression he apparently wore every day since the spring party. One time Scott tried asking him what it was that was bothering him, but Derek was in a really bad mood at that moment, so he just growled at him and Scott never tried again.

His father's voice snapped Derek back to the present, and he looked up just in time to see Rafe excusing himself from the table. Scott muttered something about homework, and he was gone before anyone could say anything.

Melissa stood up. She started picking up the empty plates, and Derek quickly got up as well, hurrying to assist her. He grabbed some of the dirty dishes, following Melissa to the kitchen like a duckling following it's mother. He set them on the counter, and was just about to turn and go back to bring another round of dishes when a thin and slender hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. He blinked in surprise, staring right into Melissa's serious and warm brown eyes.

"Talk to me." She ordered with a frown and released his hand when she was sure he wasn't going to leave, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back against the counter.

"What." Derek was confused.

"Talk. To me." Melissa repeated slowly, as if he was an idiot. "Explain to me why are you walking around with a face like someone kicked your puppy?"

Derek shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Don't give me that emo crap, kid." She snipped. "I'm not in the right mood to coax it gently out of you. Tell me what's going on. Now."

Realizing he was not going to get out of this conversation easily without giving up some details, Derek sighed and pulled a chair, dropping into it as he waited for Melissa to join him. She did.

"It happened at the spring party." He admitted stiffly, staring at his knees. "I met someone. A really great someone. We kissed and danced together, but then he just... vanished, and now I can't get him out of my head."

"Him?" Melissa asked curiously. Derek nodded.

"Yeah. I've known for a while." He huffed an embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, he left before I could ask him what his name was. Melissa," He looked up at her, green eyes shinning in a way she'd never seen them before. "It felt amazing. And the way we kissed-" He smiled weakly at her softening expression, then frowned. "I swear it took barely twenty minutes, but I can't get him out of my head... dammit, that's really a whole new level of stupid." Derek growled, running a frustrated hand over his face. Melissa chuckled.

"Oh boy." She mumbled, shaking her head with a soft snicker. "You and Scott are the same this way. When that Argent girl moved here, he was constantly talking only about her. Allison here, Allison that... and now you." She gave him a warm smile. "It's not that stupid, sweetheart." Melissa said, gently placing her palm on his wrist. "Love at first sight is a beautiful and precious thing."

"...you make it sound worse."

"Well, but it is...! It's like a fairy-tale."

"Crap. I think I just lost a testicle..."

Melissa groaned. "Would you try and be serious about this?"

"I _am_ serious. I really think I lost one-"

"Oh, shut up, you grumpy wolf."

"That's much better." Derek smiled. Melissa huffed a laugh as he got up, standing as well. She watched his retreating back as he walked out of the kitchen with a soft smile on her face, then turned around and went to finally wash the dirty dishes. _The kids,_ she thought to herself with a heart a little bit lighter than before, S_hould be just fine._

Outside - just around the corner of the kitchen - another arm grabbed Derek's wrist for the second time today and pulled him aside, making him slide into the hall. There, Scott stood with a serious face and wide eyes, staring at Derek intensely.

"What now?" Derek growled.

"That boy you met!" Scott hissed in a hushed whisper, as if someone was listening. Derek rolled his eyes and straightened up.

"Really Scott. Didn't your mother tell you it is not polite to listen in on someone else's conversations?"

"What?" Scott paused, confused. "No, no! I mean, yes, I know it's not the nicest thing to do, but listen!" He almost called out loud, eagerly staring straight into his big brother's eyes, tightening his grip on Derek's wrist. Derek arched an eyebrow.

"...Go on?" He prompted.

Scott took a deep breath.

"I know who your Cinderella is...!"

* * *

_**Here comes the sun.**_

_**Here comes the sun.**_

_**And I say it's all right.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Song used: "Here Comes The Sun" / The Beatles.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Oh my God, you guys...! Thank you so much for all those lovely comments and faves and everything. I can't believe how much of a response this story gets, I'm overwhelmed :) In this chapter, you finally get what you all waited for – first actual meeting. Enjoy.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

_**Don't let me darken your door.**_

_**It's not what I came here for.**_

_**No, it's not what I came here for.**_

* * *

The black Camaro was fleeting through Beacon Hills' streets, her driver barely paying any attention to the speed limit. Maybe, if he'd stopped to think about it, he'd find it ironic - breaking the law while driving to the sheriff's house. An address he almost had to force out of his little brother.

Scott didn't want to tell him, at first. He said it was not a decent hour to pay home visits to a boy he met at a party a week ago for barely half an hour, no matter how eager he was to see him and no matter how good that boy could kiss. Deep down, Derek knew he had a point, but it wasn't strong enough to stop him.

Derek took a sharp turn to the left. He ignored the protesting squeak the tires gave, stepping harder on the gas. A smile flicked on and off his face as he battled excitement and anxiety. He was nervous and impatient at the same time, painfully eager to see Stiles - he finally found out what his name was, thanks to Scott - and worried whether Stiles would like him or not.

He felt ridiculous. Stupid. His heart was racing and his whole body reacted like a teenaged girl having her first crush. It was an embarrassing and very foreign feeling for him, but he couldn't control it.

And it's not like it was unpleasant, a quiet voice admitted at the back of his mind.

Derek stopped abruptly in front of a nice looking, two-story house in one of the quieter neighborhoods. He parked at the sidewalk near the Stilinskis' household, turned off the Camaro's engin and sat in the car in silence, straightening his arms and placing his palms flat against the wheel. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, trying to build up the courage to go over there and knock on the door.

It was different than the party. Just by showing up on his front porch, Derek admitted hundred and one things - that Stiles wasn't just a whim, wasn't a hook-up, that he captured Derek's mind, that he couldn't think of anything else but those beautiful brown eyes and that sweet, sweet smile-

It took him another two minutes of inner battle before his hands dropped from their place on the wheel, and he snatched his keys out of their hole in resolve, quickly sliding out of the car and slamming the door shut. He locked the Camaro with a quiet double-beep, and then he just stood there, letting the cool evening air calm his senses and reareange his thoughts.

Baby steps.

He took a hesitant step forwards, not sure whether Scott was right or not. Was it too late to visit at this hour? Should he just wait until morning? Until the weekend, maybe? Derek wasn't even sure he could wait so long. Not now that he knew Stiles was right _there_.

He didn't even realize his feet were carrying him towards the few short steps at the entrance of the house, and suddenly he was facing the front door, staring at the wooden surface. There was some faint music echoing inside, and Derek recognized the song as 'Her Majesty' from the _Abbey Road_ record he sold the town's Sheriff. He raised his hand slowly, and knocked three times fast, paused, and knocked again.

A dull thud and something crushing to the floor was heard from inside the house, as well as a muffled stream of hissed curses. Derek winced as an adult voice yelled, "Just a minute!" At Derek before he heard a little bit more of urgent action, and then the music stopped and the door opened wide with the Sheriff standing there in casual clothes, holding a towel to his bleeding hand. "Yes?" He asked, looking at Derek with a frown.

"Um, Sheriff," Derek addressed him formally. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he simply shoved them into his jacket's pockets instead of just letting them dangle uselessly at his sides. The Sheriff arched both eyebrows, prompting Derek to continue. "You probably don't remember me-"

"Actually I do," Sheriff Stilinski said, something like a smile softening his defensive expression. "You are the one who helped me pick a record the other day."

Derek nodded, a bit surprised and somewhat pleased he made a positive impression on Sheriff Stilinski. It'd definitely gain some points in his favor with Stiles, right?

"Yeah," He agreed, then chewed at his inner lip. "Um, is- is Stiles home?" He asked hesitantly, watching the Sheriff's expression change again into something like suspicion.

"Why?" He asked, and it came out a little bit harsher than he meant. Derek's heartbeats picked up, nervousness washing over him in waves.

"I..." He started. How could he make it sound not-stalker-ish? How do you explain the father of your crush you were attracted to his son after a twenty-minutes meeting, without risking a bullet to the head? Derek hesitated, then took a calming, long deep breath and started over. "I met your son a few days ago," He said, voice sounding much more confident than he felt. "At the spring party."

"I have a feeling I'm not gonna like where this is going."

"Probably." Derek barked a nervous laugh. "I wanted, I wanted to talk to him? You know, ask him-"

"Ask him out?"

"What?" Derek stared at the Sheriff, baffled. He quickly caught himself, shifting from leg to leg in embarrassment. "Y-yeah." Did Stiles' father know about his son being queer? Derek was impressed. His own dad didn't know about him, and Derek hoped it'd stay this way for as long as possible. He wasn't sure Rafe would accept it so calmly, judging by recent events.

The Sheriff sighed, the hand holding the kitchen towel over his wound tightening. "I don't think it's such a good idea." He said. Something in his eyes made Derek very uncomfortable, as if there was something more.

"Sheriff, sir. Please - all I need is five minutes."

"...okay, fine." Sheriff Stilinski said reluctantly. "Come in."

Derek mumbled a quiet '_Thank you'_, following the Sheriff inside. He was left alone in the living room while Sheriff Stilinski went upstairs to fetch his son, allowing Derek a few minutes to collect himself and look around.

The house was smaller than it looked from the outside, but not by much. It was probably due to the fact the only visible inhabitants were messy males with no sense of order, although Derek could spot a bit of feminine touch. In the delicate curtains, the worn out flower-patterned pillows on couch, the specific shade of paint on the walls... It was warm and cozy. It reminded Derek of Melissa, and it felt like his mother. It felt like home.

It wasn't a minute later that the Sheriff was back with Stiles in toe, and the bright smile that spread on his round face the moment he saw Derek made him forget what he was thinking about only seconds ago. A matching smile grew on his lips, and the Sheriff cleared his throat, leaning against the living room's doorframe with the towel still wrapped around his bleeding hand.

Derek got the message, and took a tentative step closer to Stiles, watching his whiskey eyes go from excited to curious. "Um," He smiled sheepishly, unsure of how to do this. It was much harder with Stiles' father in the room, and Derek really wished he'd just go away and give them a few minutes in private. He wanted to say something clever, something charming, something that would make Stiles swoon.

"Hi."

Smooth, Hale. Very smooth.

Stiles snorted.

"Well I'm glad my nervousness amuses you," Derek smirked back.

"Three minutes." The Sheriff commented from his place by the door. "You better hurry."

"O-oh." Derek blinked. He had no idea he was counting him minutes. He better spit it out now before the Sheriff would drag him out by the collar. "Um, Stiles... Hi, yes. I was thinking, would you like to go out with me? Someday? One day?" He was rambling. Stopping himself before he said something even more embarrassing, he watched as Stiles smiled, then made a quick motion with his hand, his forefinger touching his lips once and sweeping forwards.

"He says, 'Yeah, sure.'" The Sheriff said dryly as Derek looked between them, confused.

"What? Why can't he say it himself?" Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards.

"Stiles is mute." He said and glanced at his son, and Derek blinked in confusion. "And he doesn't like it when people don't talk to him directly."

"How?"

"Just act like you did a few minutes ago, it was just fine. I'll interpret."

"But I can't understand what he's saying-"

"Stiles, calm down." The Sheriff frowned when Stiles' hand movements snapped and became wider and faster, irritation written all over his face. Derek winced mentally as the sheriff interpreted. "He says he's not deaf, and that you keep doing that, like he can't hear you, and it pisses him off and- okay, I'm not gonna tell him _that_...!" He told Stiles firmly, who was busy glaring daggers at Derek. Derek could only imagine what colorful names he was calling him that his father refused to translate.

"Stiles..." Derek tried weakly, not sure how to apologize.

"I think you better leave." Sheriff Stilinski said, placing a calming hand on his son's shoulder as Stiles gave a firm, short swipe of a strangely shaped fist and crossed his arms. "Stiles thinks so too."

Derek nodded, swallowing the lump of guilt that formed in his throat and now settled inside his chest, heavy and throbbing. He hated the hurt look in those beautiful whiskey eyes, the look that Stiles tried to hide but couldn't. Derek noticed that his bottom lip quivered so slightly it was almost invisible, and that was what made Derek retreat in shame. He mumbled a soft "Sorry...", and showed himself out, not daring to give Stiles another glance.

_Idiot! You fucking stupid, dumb, MORON!_ Derek screamed inside his head as he walked stiffly out and closed the door. Once he was out the door he picked up his pace, practically running towards his car and slamming the door shut behind him, with such force he almost ripped it from it's place. The Camero gave a few irritated groans every time Derek slammed his fists against the dashboard repeatedly, then buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on the wheel with a shuddered sigh.

He banged the back of his head against the padded seat, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

How could he be such an idiot? Derek couldn't believe the insensitivity he displayed there. He wasn't like that... he wasn't. Derek knew he wasn't. Then why did he act like a complete jackass, and treated Stiles like that? He was trying to charm him, but he ended up hurting his feelings and treating him like retarded child. Dammit...

That hurt look in his eyes was burnt into Derek's mind, and he could feel his stomach turning in shame and guilt.

"Fuck..." He whispered to the silent car, his eyes still closed.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there with a heavy heart, his guilt slowly and painfully eating at his gut. It was well past midnight, for sure, when Derek finally let out one final sigh, opened his eyes, started the car and drove away.

He didn't know that all the while, on the second floor of the Stilinski house, Stiles silently sat next to his window, and watched as the black, elegant Camaro vanished down the road. Away from him.

* * *

"...ott."

"Mmm."

"Scott."

"Leave me alone..." The teen mumbled as he turned around and buried himself farther into his pillow, drawing his blanket over his head.

"Scott...!" The hand on his shoulder wasn't mom's. It was larger and stronger, and it lacked the gentleness his mother usually woke him up with. Plus, it was still dark outside, and mom never woke him in the middle of the night unless he was sick.

So in conclusion - it was either that he was sick and no one bothered to tell him, or that it simply wasn't his mother.

"What..." Scott threw his blanket off his face, revealing screwed eyes and messy brown hair. He blinked repeatedly and his eyebrows came together in a sleepy frown, trying to make out the figure that was standing over his bed.

"Get up."

"Derek...?" Scott whispered in disbelief as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, throwing a quick glance at the red numbers on his glow-in-the-dark night watch. "Wha- are you crazy...?! It's the middle of the night!"

"Shh, keep your voice down." Derek whispered quickly, sitting down on the edge of Scott's bed.

"I would've, but some creeper just woke me up...!"

"Well, I have a good reason." Derek mumbled back, eyes not meeting Scott's.

"Wait, were you at Stil- oh my God." Scott whispered, puppy-brown eyes suddenly widening with realization as he stared at his older brother. "You screwed it up, huh?" He said sympathetically. Derek nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me he was mute?" Derek asked, and his voice sounded smaller than he intended. There was no accusation in his tone, only regret.

"I dunno..." Scott bit his lower lip. "I'm so used to it, it didn't seem important. Sorry..."

"Yeah."

"Was he, um, was he mad?" Scott scratched his arm, drawing his knees closer to his body under the blanket.

"More like... he was hurt. Really hurt. He tried to act like he was just pissed, but I could see it." Even in the dark room, Scott could see the wince of regret on Derek's face. "That's why I need your help, Scott."

"My help?"

"Yes." Derek said, placing a hand on his brother's knee. His eyes shone in the dark, eyebrows set in determination. "I want you to teach me how to sign."

* * *

_**A constant reminder of where I can find her,**_

_**A light that might give up the way,**_

_**Is all that I'm asking for,**_

_**Without her I'm lost.**_

_**But my love, don't fade away.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Warnings: Derek is acting like an ignorant dick towards Stiles' Mutism.

Song used: "Reminder" / Mumford and Sons.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I don't have anything important to say except thank you for all the reviews :) oh oh and you aso could check out my new story ("The Words You Never Say") if you have a minute or something.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

_**Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl,**_

_**But she doesn't have a lot to say.**_

_**Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl,**_

_**But she changes from day to day.**_

* * *

Stiles' 18th birthday party passed without a single mention of the Derek Hale incident. The Sheriff acted like nothing happened and Stiles never brought it up, and Scott didn't dare asking since he wasn't supposed to know about any of it, and he sure wasn't going to tell Stiles the man who broke his heart was his big brother. Not that he was ashamed of Derek.

Well, maybe just a little.

The party went on the whole night, and Stiles seemed to be having fun, most of the time. But there were some moments every now and then, where Scott caught him standing all by himself with a troubled expression hardening his usually smug features. He'd think about going there and talk to him, but then Lydia or Erica would march in and pull Stiles into another dance, and that expression would vanish and make room for another smile.

The days after the party went on in a busy blur for all of them, and Scott spent every waking moment where he wasn't at school or with Stiles, to teach Derek how to sign. His - in their father's opinion, wasted - intelligence showed as he proved to be a bright and quick learner, and in two weeks time he was able to get through a full conversation in sign language.

Stiles, on his part, was still having troubles getting over Derek, even though he tried telling himself to forget about this asshole. But this asshole had the most beautiful green eyes and such a gorgeous smile, Stiles sometimes despised himself for daydreaming about it.

Stiles also wasn't so happy with Scott's unexplained absence. He asked him once or twice what was he doing all the time, since he was pretty sure Scott didn't ask Allison out yet. But Scott always avoided giving a clear answer and claimed to have a lot of homework to catch up on.

Yeah, right.

"Okay, that's it. What's up with that face?" Lydia asked one day at school, putting her tray down and sliding to the empty seat beside Stiles. He looked up for a moment, startled, then looked back into his own lunch and shrugged.

**What face?** He reluctantly signed with one hand.

"That face," Lydia said casually, biting onto a small salted cracker. "Like someone took your favorite toy."

**There is no face.**

"Yeah, right." She scowled, clearly unconvinced. "Don't lie to me." Her voice sounded more like an order than a request. Stiles put his fork down, not that much hungry anymore.

**Would it help if I said I just don't want to talk about it?** He signed, his shoulders dropping as he knew it was a losing battle. Lydia huffed a humorless laugh.

"You know the answer."

**Fine.** Stiles sighed, his fingers spreading as he slowly bumped his thumb twice against his chest, moving in small, hesitant motions. **I'm a little... bummed, about that guy from the party.**

"The hot one you kissed?" Lydia asked with an arched eyebrow, a hint of a smirk ghosting on her lips. Stiles nodded once, stiffly.

**Yeah. Him. He came to my house a couple of weeks ago-**

"Oh my God, he did?!" Lydia suddenly exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, pushing away her tray and turning in her seat to face Stiles, eyes shining gleefully.

**Yeah**. Stiles signed grimly, his eyes distant and unaffected by her excitement. **And it was a disaster.** Lydia frowned, her smile weakening instantly.

"Why?"

**Because he was a dick.** Stiles signed sharply, suddenly very pissed. He didn't allow himself to think about it much during the past two weeks, not wanting to feel the sting of hurt that accompanied those thoughts. But now his anger and frustration surfaced, lashing out at the poor redhead. **He couldn't even look at me once my dad told him I'm mute.**

"What!" Lydia stared at him in disbelief, her frown mixed with confusion. "He seemed like such a nice guy! Are you sure you understood him righ-"

**Yes, I'm sure!** Apparently, you _could_ shout in sign language, if you really wanted to. Stiles was glaring at her, his eyebrows connected in a pissed off expression. Lydia put one hand up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry I brought this up." She apologized to a very angry Stiles. "I just think you might have misjudged him a little. Maybe try talking to him ag-"

"What are you guys talking about?" Lydia was interrupted for the second time today, as Scott and Isaac joined them at the table.

**Nothing.** Stiles briefly, sharply swept his hand under his chin and stood up in a sudden movement, taking his abandoned lunch tray with him and stomping away. Isaac frowned, quirking a curious and confused eyebrow at Lydia as they watched their friend's retreating back.

"What's up with him?" He asked slowly, nodding his chin at Stiles' direction. Lydia shrugged with a displeased huff, burying her face back in her lunch.

Somehow, Scott has a feeling he knew exactly what this was about. He needed to catch a talk with Derek. Soon.

* * *

Derek jumped and looked up from his laptop screen as he heard a sharp knock on his bedroom door. He quickly minimized the tab that presented a bunch of short videos that taught different expressions in ASL and got up to open the door. Luckily, it wasn't his father demanding to know what the hell did Derek do with his spare time, but Scott.

A very upset-looking Scott.

"We need to talk." He said and marched inside as Derek closed the door behind him with a sigh, sitting on the edge of Derek's bed with crossed arms.

Oh, boy.

"What about?" Derek asked dreadfully, flopping back into the chair in front of his laptop and facing his little brother. Whatever was so important that made Scott look at him like he was about to hit him with a baseball bat, it couldn't be good.

He hated that Scott looked at him like that.

"Stiles." Scott said firmly, and Derek stiffened in his seat. Shit. Nothing good could come out of this kind of conversation. Derek knew Scott was Stiles' best friend, but he also knew they never spoke about him, and that it ate at Scott's conscience every single day.

"Oh." Was all Derek could contribute.

"You need to talk to him. Seriously, dude." Scott said firmly, and at that moment he looked so much like Melissa when she was angry, Derek could almost laugh.

Almost.

"Why? Did he, did he tell you something?" He asked, trying to sound unfazed. His curiosity picked up though, his heart giving a hopeful thump. Scott uncrossed his arms, huffing.

"Not exactly." He told Derek slowly. "More like, snapped. At Lydia. Whatever happened between you two still bothers him, and I can tell he still thinks about you."

"Oh..."

"Not that it's such a bad thing, though...!" Scott hurried to add, attempting to give Derek a reassuring smile but ending up looking just... creepy. "Believe me, I know Stiles. If he weren't still interested, he'd have let it go already. He spent years pining for Lydia Martin before he gave up."

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah, dude." Scott smiled at the shit-eating grin that slowly spread across Derek's face. "He's still into you."

"That's, um, cool." He shifted in his seat, trying to sound nonchalant, but still he was unable to wipe the smug grin off his face.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"What are you gonna do about it?" Scott asked impatiently, rolling his eyes so hard Derek swore he could almost _hear_ it. He shrugged and started tapping his fingers quietly on the armchair, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs forwards, crossing them.

"I thought maybe, try and stop by his house again?" He suggested. Scott shook his head firmly.

"No, no. Don't do that. If you show up there right now, his dad might shoot you. He really doesn't like it when people treat his son with disrespect."

The tapping stopped. "I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't. But they don't. So stay away from the sheriff for now and look for another way to talk to Stiles."

"Any ideas?" Derek asked and leaned back again, resuming his nervous tapping. Scott bit his lip for a second, then nodded and leaned forwards, as if he had a secret.

"Lydia is having a party this weekend, since her parents are gonna be out of town. You should come. Everyone's invited."

Derek cocked one hairy eyebrow. "You guys sure go to a lot of parties."

Scott smirked.

"You noticed, huh?" He snorted. "Anyway, I'm gonna make sure Stiles comes as well, so don't screw it up. This will probably be your only chance to prove him you are not a complete jerk."

"Great pep-talk, little brother."

"That's what I'm here for." Scott laughed and stood up, brushing at his jeans and stretching one arm. "Now, come on. Mom made spaghetti and meat balls."

"Yuck."

"Shut up, you big baby." Scott smiled as Derek stood up as well and joined him, closing the bedroom door behind them.

* * *

_**Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl.**_

_**Someday I'm going to make her mine,**_

_**Oh yeah.**_

_**Someday I'm going to make her mine.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Song used: "Her Majesty" / The Beatles.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** What you all waited for is finally here. Enjoy!

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 8:

* * *

_**I see it all through a telescope:**_

_**Guitar, suitcase and a warm coat.**_

_**Lying in the back of a blue boat,**_

_**Humming a tune...**_

* * *

The muffled beat of the loud music seeped through his car's walls and echoed inside his chest as Derek drove down the street to Lydia's house. He heard loud, multiple voices laughing and someone yelping, and glanced at the front yard to see a large group of party-goers hooting and yelling to each other with drinks in their hands. He shook his head with a ghost of a smile, slowly starting to park the black Camaro on the sidewalk.

The shouts died down as Derek stepped out of the car, his black jeans and leather jacket making him look dark and dangerous, when really inside his heart was pretty much racing with panic. Hushed murmurs and whispers followed him as he quietly walked up the stairs leading to the Martins' front porch with his hands clenched nervously inside his pockets, the bouncing lights from inside flashing over his unshaven face.

This was it, Derek thought as he paused and stared at the front door. This was his one and only chance to make Stiles like him. If he screwed this up... he didn't even want to think about the 'what if's. He was going to win him, he told himself firmly. He's gonna do it.

Walking inside, Derek ignored the awed stares people gave him. Not much of a surprise, since they were mostly teenagers, high-schoolers, though Derek could spot a few around his own age amongst them - probably older boyfriends or girlfriends. His gaze flicked around nervously, looking for Scott in the crowed, and his breath hitched when he spotted him standing near the wall and watching the people dance, Stiles by his side.

He found himself just standing there, staring. Stiles was looking so handsome in a white T-shirt and an open, red plaid shirt, his tight dark jeans hugging his long legs perfectly. His hair was about an inch longer than the way Derek remembered it, in a perfect length for him to run his fingers through it. He held a large red party-cup in his hand, smiling such a bright smile, it made Derek's heart flutter as Scott commented on something he didn't bother to even try and read. They were too far away.

He forced his suddenly stiff legs to move through the groups of people, approaching the two teens with a racing heart and sweaty palms he tried to wipe on his jeans. He took a deep breath, willing a confident smile on his face as he got close enough for them to notice his approach. Scott was the first one to see him, and he caught his eye, smiling widely at his brother. The gesture made Stiles turn his head as well to see what Scott was looking at, but when he noticed Derek, his expression hardened. He shot Scott a betrayed look.

**You told him to come? Seriously?!** Derek translated in his head as he watched the way Stiles glared at Scott accusingly when he realized what was going on, his hands moving fast and sharp. **Not cool, man.** He let out a noise that sounded almost like a quiet, deep growl, and Scott at least had the decency to look guilty, scratching at his arm and avoiding his accusing glare.

Derek froze when Stiles' angry whiskey eyes suddenly settled back on him with a pissed off twist of his mouth, and the teen stormed past him, making sure to bump his shoulder hard against Derek's side. Derek's panicked eyes shot to look at Scott for help, and his brother quickly responded by making an urgent, encouraging motion with his hands, mouthing, _Go!_

Derek didn't need to be told twice. He barely caught Scott's thumb-ups before he swiftly turned around, striding quickly after Stiles' retreating back. He caught up with him, keeping the fake-confident smile on as he walked with him, side by side.

"Don't run away," Derek said, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not enough to be considered a shout. It wasn't as loud as the music at the spring party, probably thanks to Lydia's better taste. Derek was grateful for that.

Stiles gave him a glare and a quick middle finger. He was sure Derek didn't need to know sign language to understand what that meant.

"Oh, come on, Stiles." He said, not showing any sign of his nervousness as Stiles gave him a look that would make the Gods tremble. "Don't be like that."

**Fuck off.**

Derek pretended he didn't know what Stiles just signed, and instead he reached out and grabbed his wrist, making him stop and turn around to look at him. "Okay, okay, stop! Just stop." Derek called over the music. Stiles looked furious, trying to yank his arm free. "Would you please, just listen to me?" Derek asked, loosening his grip on his arm.

Stiles' stopped trying to free himself and just stuck to glaring at him. Derek took that as a good sign - at least he stopped running. He let out a relieved breath, smiling weakly.

"Look. I'm sorry, okay?" He started, releasing his wrist completely. Stiles crossed his arms, backing towards the closest wall and leaning against it with stiff shoulders and a firm frown. "I was being a dick. I never meant to make you feel belittled, or stupid, or whatever I made you feel. I'm so, so sorry."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure Derek out. His expression was still hard and pissed, but Derek could see his shoulders lost some of their tension. Another good sign.

"You see," Derek continued, and by God, this was the longest, most honest speech he gave in his life. "You surprised me with the whole, you know, mute thing-" He waved a light hand around the word, and Stiles gave another displeased growl, straightening up in protest. "-but I couldn't care less." Derek hurried to add, placing a calming hand on Stiles shoulder. And if anyone asked him later, he could have sworn he felt Stiles briefly shivering under his touch.

"I want to get to know you, Stiles," Derek said, watching the frown slowly leaving Stiles' features. "I don't care how long it's gonna take, or how hard it's gonna be." He paused, taking a deep breath before he raised two nervously shaking hands.

**Would you go out with me?** Derek's hands moved awkwardly, slowly, and Stiles' whiskey eyes widened in shock, mouth slightly hanging open as he recognized the strangely shaped signs.

**Where did you learn how to sign?** He signed slowly back once he regained his composure, his gestures and expression much more accepting now. He still seemed a little reluctant, but Derek counted the small awed smile on his lips as a win.

**I don't know the sign for-** Derek looked somewhat apologetic as he said out loud, "Scott."

Stiles made a quick motion with his fist that Derek recognized as the letter S and kind of swiped it along his jaw. Derek looked confused, then mimicked the motion.

"Is that your sign for Sc-" He asked. Stiles nodded. Derek let out an amused snort, a relieved laugh bubbling in his throat and making Stiles smile.

That smile took his breath away, and suddenly laughing became somewhat a tough task.

With the ice between them broken, they moved away from the wall, wandering through Lydia's halls with no real destination as they started to talk. Derek told him about his job at the record shop and the people there, mentioning that Stiles' father was there for his birthday present. Stiles' eyes lit up at that, and he gave Derek one of his brightest smiles.

**I loved that record!** He signed enthusiastically, Derek watching him carefully, not wanting to miss even one word. **It's one of my favorites. You have a really good taste.** He smirked, noticing the awkward grin that tilted Derek's mouth.

They didn't even notice where they were going when they found themselves sliding open the glass door leading to Lydia's pool, where there were a few groups of teenagers who also tried to tune out some of the music. It was a perfect place for private conversations, with a few hidden spots that made them accidentally walk in on couples making out, before they found an empty, private spot behind two trees. They sat there on a couple of fake rocks, shielded from curious eyes, and talked.

They talked about hobbies and the weather, bitched about coworkers and classmates, gossiped about Scott and how he never makes a move on Allison Argent even though he's dying to ask her out. All along, Derek barely had to ask Stiles to repeat himself, and Stiles did his best to slow down for him and choose some of the simpler signs, so he could understand everything. They got along better than either of them hoped for.

Derek also got to hear Stiles laughing. A sweet, breathy sound that rolled out of his throat in beautiful gasps. In was contagious, and Derek found himself laughing along, so hard it was getting hard to breathe.

He stared at him all that time, and in his mind he was mapping the moles that were scattered across Stiles' neck and face. He was watching his hands move elegantly as he rambled on and on about school and graduation, about his dad and the cases he sneakily helped him solve. Minutes became hours, and people already started leaving the party as Stiles told Derek how he and Scott met, and just when he was about to start a new, absurd story that somehow involved a jellyfish and watermelons, Derek raised his palms so stop him from continuing.

"Wait, wait," Derek smiled, Stiles pausing and looking at him curiously. "If it's not too personal, mind if I ask you a question?"

Stiles hesitated.

**Yeah. Sure.** He signed eventually, forefinger touching his chin.

"Er... I was wondering, um, how come you are mute, but you can still make sounds?" Derek asked, suddenly very aware of how awfully personal that question was. It didn't sound like that in his brain. "I'm sorry. I mean, I thought mute people can't make sounds at all, but I heard you laughing before, and... well, you don't have to answer that..." He trailed off.

**That's okay.** Stiles smiled, tapping his thumb on his chest once, and it seemed a little strained, but he answered nonetheless. **I have A-P-R-A-X-I-A of Speech,** He spelled with his fingers, since he was pretty sure Derek didn't know the sign for that. **I have all the tools required to speak, but there's a...** Stiles paused for a second, then bumped both his left and right index and middle knuckles together, resuming his explanation. **...problem, in the connection between my brain and my mouth. It's treatable, to a certain level, but signing is easier.**

Derek watched carefully, making sure he got everything Stiles said. Scott hadn't told him any of that... but then again, it wasn't his story to tell. He nodded slowly. "Oh," Was all he could say. Derek wished he could hear how Stiles' voice sounded like, but he didn't dare asking. He just got Stiles to spend some time with him, he wasn't going to risk offending him and chasing him away again. "I'm sorry." He said. Stiles shrugged.

**It's not that bad,** He signed, smiling. **I'm in speech therapy, and as long as no one treats me like a retard, I'm cool. We joke about it all the time. You should hear some of the things I-S-A-A-C says,** Stiles snorted, spelling the name again for Derek, along with his sign for Isaac's name. **This guy has the dirtiest mouth I've ever seen.** He yawned. Derek smirked.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I boring you with my deep, heart-to-heart questions?" Derek said, his greenish eyes sparkling in amusement. Stiles hurriedly covered his mouth, stifling another yawn as he shook his head frantically.

**No, no...!** He signed quickly once his hands were free, making Derek chuckle. **Sorry, I'm just tired.** He apologized, then tapped at his wrist and furrowed his eyebrows. **What time is it?**

Derek threw a quick glance at his watch, eyes widening in surprise. "4 AM," He replied. "We have been sitting here all night."

**Dammit,** Stiles signed quickly, getting up. **We should probably go back. My dad is gonna kill me.**

Derek nodded, a little disappointed to see Stiles go. He followed him as he walked back inside, and their hands brushed when they crossed the house while nodding goodbyes at a few people Stiles probably knew. Scott was nowhere to be seen, and Derek assumed he probably went back home earlier that night.

Once they were outside, waving their goodbye at a very tired-looking Lydia, Derek kept following Stiles until they reached a blue Jeep, and Stiles stopped, turning around to face Derek as he dug the Jeep's keys out of his jeans pocket.

**Thank you,** He tapped his palm at his chin, his movements small as a sheepish smile spread over his lips. **For a great night. I guess you're not that bad after all.**

"Glad to hear," Derek replied, a wolfish smirk tilting his lips. "Hey, you didn't answer my question, though."

Stiles cocked his head in question, his brow creasing. **What question?** He asked, confused.

"Will you go out with me?"

Stiles' beautiful whiskey eyes stared at him for a moment, before his face broke into a wide and shy smile, pale blush creeping onto his skin. He leaned forwards and threw an arm around Derek's shoulder, pulling the surprised man into a fierce kiss. His dark eyelashes fluttered briefly before he closed his eyes, letting out a deep, quiet and content sigh as he leaned even closer.

Derek thought his brain might explode. He didn't dare closing his eyes, wanted to see every feature and every change in Stiles' face. The flushed cheeks, the contrast between his milky skin and his moles... the dark eyelashes that softly brushed against Derek's cheek like feathers, making his shiver...

They pulled apart after what seemed like forever, gasping for breath and blushing like a couple of young teens who never kissed before. Stiles leaned back against his Jeep, looking up at Derek and letting out a rolling, breathy laugh, practically giggling. Derek couldn't stop smiling.

"Technically, that still doesn't answer my question."

**That was a yes, you idiot.** Stiles signed, a goofy and content smile plastered all over his face.

"Good." Derek said with a matching grin. "So, next weekend, Saturday morning. Sounds good?"

**It's a date.**

"Okay. See you."

Derek leaned in to peck his lips briefly, feeling Stiles smiling against him before he pulled away. He climbed up to his Jeep, giving Derek one last playful glance before twisting his keys and driving away.

* * *

_**Nothing else will do**_

_**I gotta have you.**_

* * *

**A/N:** Song used: "Gotta Have You" / The Weepies.

Warnings: Mention of Apraxia of Speech.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** First official date for our favorite boys. Enjoy! And thank you all for all the wonderful messages!

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

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Chapter 9

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_**Love; it will not betray you,**_

_**Dismay or enslave you.**_

_**It will set you free,**_

_**Be more like the man you were made to be.**_

* * *

True to his word, Derek showed up outside of the Stilinskis' front door on Saturday morning, 8 AM sharp, wearing a thin, grayish-green long-sleeved henley he thought was looking pretty good and a pair of comfortable, loose jeans. His leather jacket forgotten in the backseat, Derek climbed out of the car and leaned against it's frame, patiently staring at the house's front door. As if on a cue, Stiles suddenly burst out of the door with a half-eaten toast in his mouth, pulling a dark gray sweater over a plain T-shirt and smiling as he saw Derek standing there, already waiting for him.

"Morning." Derek smirked as Stiles awkwardly slid into a stop beside him, flailing and grabbing at the toast with his left hand as the right quickly flashed in front of Derek's face.

**Want some?** He offered with a smile, steadying himself and chewing disgustingly. Derek winced.

"No, thank you. I think I'll pass." He said, eyeing the half-eaten toast with a slight nausea. "That's really gross, Stiles." He added, which only made Stiles' grin grow.

**Where are we going?** Stiles asked curiously, watching as Derek smirked slyly at the question and moved to the other side of the car, sliding in and waiting for Stiles to do the same. When they both were seated comfortably, Stiles tapped at Derek's shoulder briefly to get his attention, then repeated his question. **Dude. Where are we going?**

"It's a surprise," Derek said teasingly, making Stiles groan and bang his head back against the seat.

**I hate surprises.** He signed lazily, eyes closed and forehead creased in half-hearted annoyance.

Suddenly, soft fingers gently started caressing his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles of worry on his too-young skin. His eyes fluttered open and glanced aside, a soft and shy smile ghosting on his lips and he stopped himself from pulling away as Derek kept touching him gently. His touch sent shivers down Stiles' spine, making the hairs on his arms stand, and he forced the quiet, content moan that threatened to to spill out to stay in, embarrassed by his own reaction. **Are we going or what?** Was the jerky, nervous question.

"Yeah." Derek smiled and let his hand slide off, starting the car.

The drive there wasn't very long. The road took them just a little outside of Beacon Hills, through the main dirt road and into the woods where Derek stopped and parked the car in the shadow of a tall Oak tree. Stiles turned slightly in his seat, looking at Derek in question as the engine died.

"Come on," Derek said, pushing his door open with a sharp squeak and watching as Stiles suspiciously slid out as well.

**I really hope you are not going to kill me and bury me in the woods.**

"I don't know, maybe later." Derek chuckled at Stiles' semi-worried expression, placing a hand at the small of his back and leading him confidently through the woods.

It was a short walk, less than five minutes, and when Derek stopped and allowed his hand to slip off his back, Stiles noticed where they were.

They were standing in the treeline of a small clearing with patches of soft, yellowish-green grass. The place was surrounded by thick bushes of berries Stiles wasn't so sure weren't poisonous, and tall Oak and Pine trees that cast nice shadows over the clearing and filled the air with fresh, earthy scent. There was a thin creek running through the trees, spilling into a small, deep and clear pool right in the middle, full of tiny and colorful fish. Stiles watched with wide eyes as the soft rays of the morning sun danced over the surface, making the water glitter like thousands of diamonds.

**This place is beautiful...!** He turned and looked at a very pleased Derek with a huge, awed smile on his face.

"It's not everything," Derek said, calmly thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets and moving backwards towards the small pool, facing Stiles all the way. How he managed not to trip over stones or stray roots was beyond Stiles, who was as graceful as an elephant trying to dance ballet. The teen eagerly followed him, smiling brightly, and a surprised, strange noise escaped his lips when his eyes found the huge blanket Derek placed there for them, hidden in the shadows behind a couple of thick, tight trees. There was a basket there as well, and Stiles' eyes shot up to meet Derek's in gratitude.

"Is it okay?" Derek asked with a smug smirk, watching Stiles expression and gesturing at the blanket.

**It's perfect.**

"Good. That's the idea." He smiled, taking his shoes off and sitting down on the blanket, crossing his legs as Stiles hurried towards him and dropped and slid flat on his stomach next to him. Rolling over to his back, Stiles looked up at Derek with a huge, bright grin plastered on his face, reaching up a hand to touch his stubbled face.

Derek closed his eyes for a moment and let out a content sigh, then lowered himself onto his back and rolled a little to his side so he could look at the teen next to him. Stiles propped himself up on his elbow, his position now allowing him to awkwardly and slowly sign at Derek. Which was good, since the older man was still new to the whole signing thing and slow was a perfect pace for him.

**Okay. What now?** He asked. Derek shrugged.

"How does a first date start?"

**With questions?**

"Alright. You go first."

Stiles hesitated.

**Okay. **He finger-spelled. **Tell me about yourself? How old are you exactly?**

"I don't think that one is a standard first date question."

**I don't care. Answer it.**

"Bossy." Derek snorted and Stiles smiled. "Okay, fine. I'm twenty-one, a college drop-out. I live with my father, his wife and your best friend-" He had to pause for a second because at that Stiles let out a huffed laugh and Derek really wanted to hear that one. "And now I gloriously work fulltime at a record shop for minimum wage." He finished with a smirk. "Your turn."

**Well, I just turned eighteen, as you already know.** Stiles signed slowly, and Derek was pleased to find he understood every word. He was getting better at this. **I moved here with my parents four years ago. I love gaming and science - even though my chemistry teacher apparently hates me - and I play for my school Lacrosse team with Scott and Isaac.**

"Do you have a job or anything?" Derek asked, rolling over to his side to get a better look at Stiles. He nodded.

**I help out at the A-R-M-O-R T-I-R-E and Service Center twice a week,** Stiles answered, adding a quick spelling for the words he guessed Derek didn't know. **It's not much, but it's enough to pay for my Jeep.**

"Oh... Say," Derek asked curiously and propped himself up to be in Stiles' eye-level. "When did you meet Scott?"

**On my second day after moving into town,** Stiles signed, letting out a breathy laugh that made a quick smile flash over Derek's lips. **Right there on chemistry class, where Mr. Harris decided to make me an example-**

"Wait, wait. I didn't catch that. A what?" Derek asked hurriedly, confused.

**E-X-A-M-P-L-E.** Stiles spelled for him slowly, then added the sign and Derek nodded to show he got it. **And Scott just jumped to defend me.**

"That's very like him." Derek chuckled. Stiles snorted.

**Yeah. A lot of good it did.** He smirked and sat up in a more comfortable position for signing. **He ended up in detention with me, and the next day my mom convinced me to invite him for dinner. We stayed pretty tight ever since.**

Derek frowned. "Speaking of which... I wanted to ask you, where exactly is your mom? I haven't seen her at your house the other day."

The smile slid off Stiles' round face like water on glass as his eyes darkened instantly, and he drew his legs close, crossing them and hunching over. Derek shot up immediately with his heart pounding way too fast, and watched Stiles' reaction with concern, worried he might have said the wrong thing.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. I didn't mean-"

**She died.** Stiles signed slowly without looking up, cutting Derek's ramble off.

Okay. He definitely said the wrong thing.

Stiles' movements became heavy and slow and sad, as if all of his usual energy left his body. Derek stared at him silently, lips parted in an attempt to say something. Anything. But he couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry." Was the lame comfort he tried to offer. Stiles still didn't look at him.

**It's okay. It was bound to come up eventually.** Stiles replied sadly. Derek hated seeing him hurt like that, but he didn't dare to say anything. Instead, he just shuffled closer, watching Stiles' hands intently. He couldn't miss any of what he was about to say. **I was sixteen.** Stiles started. **My mom was the one who taught me how to drive, since dad was too busy with his new job as... S-H-E-R-I-F-F.** Stiles still remembered to spell that too for Derek. A pained look crossed his face and he looked up at Derek, whiskey eyes glassy with unshed tears. Derek's heart clenched tight in his chest at the sight, hands itching to touch him and offer some comfort. **It was my fault.** He signed slowly, his movements almost agonized as he twisted his hand over his shoulder. **I didn't see the car coming, and we had an accident. Mom... mom died on the spot. I got away with two-months coma and brain damage that caused my A-P-R-A-X-I-A.**

Derek stared at him with a heavy heart, moving to wrap a comforting arm around Stiles' waist and pull him close, tight. He wasn't sure he understood everything Stiles said, but he got the general idea and that was enough. He wasn't ever going to make him repeat that. Derek sighed behind Stiles' ear, pulling him closer and placing a gentle kiss on the back of his head.

"I lost my mom when I was fifteen." Derek mumbled quietly, his breath ghosting over Stiles' ear. He felt Stiles stiffening, and his soft hand moved to caress Derek's thigh gently, offering some comfort of his own.

"She was the only parent I knew, since my parents split when I was too young to remember. My father - Scott's father - wasn't much of a dad to me. A card at my birthdays, a visit or two during the year, that's all. He married Melissa and when Scott was born, he didn't have time for me by then." His voice was monotonous, emotionless, as if he was reading from a book about a life that wasn't his. Stiles shifted in Derek's hold, leaning against him and bringing his hand to his lips to softly kiss his palm. Derek shivered, sucking in a breath.

"And then she died." He whispered into Stiles' hair. "My mom. She was a psychologist, and one day, one of her patients just... lost it, and attacked her. After that I moved in with my father and his family, and Scott became the next best thing in my life. That is, until I left for college."

The final tone in his voice told Stiles he wasn't going to say anything more, and so he pulled away from Derek a little so he could look at him. His whiskey eyes were still clouded with moist, and Derek was pretty sure his own were too. He felt extremely vulnerable, exposed. He didn't plan to open up like this, and honestly,he never had before. But when he saw Stiles sitting there on the verge of tears, he had to say something. Which turned to be his most secret emotions... ones he'd barely ever admitted to himself.

But the look Stiles was giving him now wasn't one of pity. It was an understanding look of someone who knew exactly what it's like to lose a parent, knew the pain and the defensiveness one develops after something like that. It was comforting.

And then Stiles was suddenly very close, and he leaned over Derek, with one arm supporting his weight, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of Derek's head and pull him closer. Their lips met halfway, the kiss sweet and soft and gentle. Stiles' hand moved to cup Derek's face, and Derek sighed in response and closed his eyes, leaning farther into the kiss like a starved man. He was steadily inhaling in Stiles' scent, listening to his heavy breathing as they moved even closer until their chests were lined together, flush against each other.

A thumb brushing over his cheek made him open his eyes just in time to see Stiles pull away, cheeks flushed and eyes still staring straight into Derek's green eyes. Stiles sat back on his heels, hands brushing over Derek's arms and knees as they slid off of him.

**Let's do something.** He signed shakily, still slightly panting. **Anything.**

Derek smiled weakly back. "A little more of this could be a good idea." He said breathlessly, gesturing between them. Stiles shook his head.

**Something else. I don't want to think about anything anymore, I just want to have fun with you.**

Derek nodded. He felt more than a little bit disappointed when he said, "Okay." Glancing around, his gaze fell on the small pool, and an idea popped into his mind. "How about a swim?" He suggested.

At that, a small smile bloomed on Stiles' lips and he nodded eagerly, quickly shedding his sweater and pulling his T-shirt off, revealing a nicely shaped, square chest that made Derek stare shamelessly with his wolfish grin back on his face.

Hurriedly following, Derek swiftly pulled his own shirt off and got out of his jeans with quick, elegant movements while Stiles tried to wriggle out of his without so much as a hint of grace. Once they were both in boxers only, they sat there on their knees, looking at each other with obvious appreciation. Stiles was built well for his age, scrawniness gone and making room for broad, square shoulders and a hard chest. Derek, on other hand, was purely made of muscles. Hard, toned, strong muscles that made Stiles both embarrassed and wanting to run his fingers across them, map them and kiss them.

Derek was the first to stand up, and he straightened his back and offered Stiles a hand with a widening smile, glad to see that Stiles accepted the help and pulled himself up to stand beside Derek. They started walking calmly towards the water, their slow pace gradually picking up until Stiles suddenly let out an excited shout, and a second later they were practically racing each other, crashing into the water with rolling laughter.

Derek was in bliss. He could hear Stiles' yelps of surprise when he splashed water at him, heard him laughing loudly and freely every time he slipped over wet rocks and flailed stupidly back into the clear water, and Derek could swear those were the sweetest noises he's ever heard. He laughed along, feeling better than he'd all those years since he moved into Beacon Hills.

It was scary, really. The way this goofy, mute, hyperactive young man made him feel. Derek was falling for him faster than he thought, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. But he also knew, that right now, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if he wanted to.

And he didn't.

So they spent the whole morning, noon and afternoon in the pool in the middle of the woods, until their skin wrinkled and their muscles hurt, coming out only when Stiles started to complain he was absolutely _starving_. As he found out, the basket Derek brought was full of delicious breakfast that they swallowed in five minutes, even though it was already cold.

By the time they'd finished, the sun was already starting to set, casting a warm, orange light over the trees. They sat there in content silence, Derek's bare back against the trunk of an old Pine tree and his arms resting over and around Stiles' drying chest as the younger man lay between his legs, his head resting back under Derek's chin. They didn't talk, but Stiles could hear Derek faintly humming in his ear, an old song Stiles recognized from one of his father's old records. It felt so good to be sitting there together, that Stiles suddenly realized he didn't want this day to end.

He wasn't sure how or when it happened, but somewhere along the way, between the moment their eyes met at the spring party and this exact moment, Stiles found out he actually fell for Derek Hale.

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_**There is a design, an alignment to cry,**_

_**Of my heart to see.**_

_**The beauty of love as it was meant to be.**_

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**A/N:** Song used: "Sigh No More" / Mumford Sons.

Warnings: Mention of Apraxia of Speech and past canonical character death.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Happiness. Serious, legit happiness in this chapter (I think I'm compensating for my other story). Have fun. Oh, and also, I know I am not answering reviews here, but if you guys have something you want to know or ask or even criticize, feel free to PM me :)

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

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Chapter 10

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_**Everyday it's a-getting closer.**_

_**Going faster than a roller-coaster.**_

_**Love like yours will surely come my way.**_

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The next couple of months were a mixed blur of warm and fuzzy romance, of careless spring, of music and sneaked moments and brief touches and stolen kisses.

With every passing day Derek got better and better at signing, and it proved useful whenever they had to be extra quiet, whether it was in Derek's room or just around the corner of the Stilinskis' back porch. They'd stifle laughter and shut each other up with frantic kisses whenever someone walked by, behaving like a young, careless, silly, in-love teenage couple.

Every day after work, the black Camaro would stop by the gates of Beacon Hills highschool and Derek would step out and lean against it with his hands shoved in the pockets of his trademark leather jacket, and wait for the bell to ring. And amongst the swarm of eager teenagers hurrying and pushing out of the doors for freedom, he'd spot Scott and Stiles on the top of the stairs, and they'd wave at him before saying goodbye to each other. And when Scott'd go for his motorcycle and drive away with a knowing smirk on, Stiles' face would break into a huge grin and he'd bolt his way right into Derek's waiting arms and kiss him like they'd been apart for years, not hours.

After that, they'd have a few hours of grace before Stiles had to get back home before the sheriff had, and they'd kiss again and again and one more time before promising to see each other again tomorrow. And they'd sneak just one more, tiny kiss and then Stiles'd reluctantly shove Derek back into the car with a playful smile and wave his goodbye at him with soft eyes and a gentle goofy grin, before going inside to wait for his father to come back home.

The Sheriff, of course, wasn't stupid. He knew his son was seeing Derek Hale and he heard the rumors about him, but he paid them no attention. As Sheriff, he knew well how to spot the bad guys, the troublemakers and even the potential criminals. And Derek Hale wasn't one, he was sure of that, despite the rumors about the tall, dark drop-out. Besides, the Sheriff trusted his son was clever enough to choose for himself, even though he himself didn't appreciate the thought of his son dating a guy almost four years older.

He pretended not to know anything, pretended he didn't hear the choked, multiple giggles coming from his son's room in the middle of the night. He never questioned Stiles about where he was going or what was he doing, and even when he sometimes tried to sneak back inside after curfew, the Sheriff said nothing and pretended not to notice, knowing fully well that up until the moment he walked through the door, his son was just around the corner, kissing Derek goodnight.

But it was all worth it, the Sheriff thought. The permanent smile Stiles wore lately was worth the sleepless nights and the worrying and the fake, concerned looks he got from some of the people around town.

This Hale kid was making his son happy, and honestly, that was all that mattered to him, really.

* * *

"Okay, stop." Erica said one day during one of her speech therapy sessions with Stiles. The teen raised two surprised eyes from the card he was trying to read from, looking at her in question. "What is going on?" She demanded to know.

**What?** Stiles signed, clearly confused. Erica sighed.

"You're not here," She explained. "You seem distracted, and it shows. We've been through these cards weeks ago." Erica frowned, gesturing at the word cards that were scattered around on her small coffee table. "You keep going back, and it's really not like you. So I'm asking again - what is going on?"

Stiles watched as she crossed her arms in determination and leaned back in her sofa, giving him an insistent look and a cocked eyebrow. He frowned, putting the card he was holding down and sliding his middle finger across his left palm.

**Rude.**

Erica smirked. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I still want answers."

**Okay, fine.** Stiles gave up, rolling his eyes. **I'm seeing someone, okay?** He admitted, his gestures shy and embarrassed. Erica untangled her arms immediately, letting out a short, excited squeal as she leaned forwards to look at him with shinning brown eyes.

"Who?!" She pressed eagerly. "Someone I know?"

**D-E-R-E-K H-A-L-E.** He spelled, and her eyes widened in an instant.

"Scott's brother...?!" Erica called in disbelief. "The hot guy from the record shop?! I had no idea he was gay... that's a shame." She added, somewhat disappointed, as if someone just offered her a candy but decided to take it away before she could grab it. "I'd totally hit that."

Stiles snorted. **You're impossible.** He signed, smirking and reaching for his glass of water.

"That's my charm." She winked. "Come on, tell me some of the juicy stuff. How was your first date? Did you kiss him?"

More embarrassed than he'd care to admit, Stiles put down his glass and told her of Lydia's party and how Derek just showed up and kept insisting until Stiles gave in and talked to him. He described how they warmed up to each other and talked for hours, how they agreed to meet for an official first date that weekend and how Stiles kissed him goodbye and goodnight. He even told her of the sleepless nights he laid awake in his bed days before their date, too excited to fall asleep.

And he told her of their first, perfect date. Where they went and how it went and what Derek did for him. Stiles didn't tell her about the long conversation they had because he figured, that was a private, intimate moment that he and Derek shared and that Erica didn't need to know. His eyes glistened softly as he spoke of the sunset and how Derek's arms felt around him, how they only got up when the sun was already long gone and-

**-and then we went to his - Scott's - house,** Stiles signed, smiling gently at the memory. **No one was there beside Scott's mom and she was really cool about the whole thing. We took a quick shower- Not together!** He gestured widely as the blush returned to his cheeks. Erica stared at him innocently, amusingly arching a delicate dark-blonde eyebrow.

"I didn't say anything." She said sweetly.

**You were thinking it.** Stiles stared at her dryly. She waved a hand at the accusation.

"Just go on."

**Fine.** He huffed. **As I was saying, we took a shower - seperately - and went on a dinner and a movie. Iron man, I think. I didn't really notice the screen all that much. He...** The soft smile returned to Stiles' face and pale blush crept up his neck. **He kept holding my hand through the whole movie.**

Erica grinned. "You two are nauseating."

**Probably.** He snorted, the blush still on the process of fading. He reached again for his glass, sipping slowly.

Without farther warning, Erica suddenly leaned farther forwards until a very surprised Stiles could almost count her long eyelashes. He blinked. "Well?" Erica prompted huskily, her voice dripping poisoned honey as if they were sharing a dark secret. "Do you love him?"

Stiles almost choked on his water.

**What! No! I... I don't know...!** His hands flailed defensively as he coughed, nearly knocking the tiny coffee table over. **It's... too soon.** He finished lamely, not looking Erica in the eyes.

"How long exactly have you two been dating?" She asked with narrowed eyes, leaning back.

**About two months, I think.** Stiles signed awkwardly. He wasn't used to talking about him and Derek to other people. Even Scott didn't ask that many questions, or looked as disturbingly eager as Erica was now. **Technically we know each other since the spring party.**

"And you're still not sure what you feel about him?" Erica mused, the exercise cards on the table long forgotten. This was much more interesting than how to pronounce 'lizard'. Stiles shook his head.

**Neither of us said it yet.** He admitted, uncertainty written all over his young face. **Perhaps he's not so sure, either.**

Erica huffed, squaring her shoulders and throwing waves of blonde hair to the back. "I think you are both very stupid." She stated, then smirked. "You better figure it out soon, baby. summertime is almost here and I promise, you don't wanna miss that."

**Are you suggesting-**

"Summer romance!" She grinned. "Long walks on the beach, swims, ice cream dates, minimal clothes, hot sweaty sex-"

"Er... ah...!" The noise that left Stiles' lips was mortified and embarrassed to the core, his cheeks and ears burning and his eyes wide.

"What?" She smiled sweetly, patting Stiles' flushed cheek fondly. "Don't tell me you never thought about it. Because that'd be a lie, Pinoccio." She laughed at her own joke, enjoying the dark red that now spread down to Stiles' neck as well. She giggled even harder.

"You naughty boy...!"

Stiles groaned and buried his face in his hands as she kept laughing on with way too much enthusiasm. Great.

Sometimes he really hated Erica Reyes.

* * *

_**Everyday seems a little longer.**_

_**Every way love's a little stronger.**_

_**Come what may,**_

_**Do you ever long for true love from me?**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Everyday" / Buddy Holly.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Another happy chapter, since those two are finally together and they deserve some joy. This time, though, with a twist. Have fun!

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

_**Now my feet turn the corner back home.**_

_**Sun turns the evening to rose.**_

_**Stars turning high up above.**_

_**You turned me into somebody loved.**_

* * *

Summer came in a blink of an eye. One day Stiles was still studying hard for his finals, and in the next he was already at the woods in a gray tank top and black shorts, waiting for Derek to arrive and join him on a swim in the pool they found only months ago.

It was just like Erica described in what seemed like yesterday.

Heated kisses and sweaty skin, hot nearly-naked nights in each other's rooms, freedom and the ability to finally be together without any second obligations other than Derek's work at the record shop. Stiles quit the garage he was working at and soon found a better part-time job at the kitchen of the town's best diner along with Scott, who got the opening as a waiter.

Derek soon discovered that Stiles really loved to cook. He told Derek he used to make lunches and dinners for his father ever since his mother passed, inheriting her love for the kitchen and for food. He told him she always used to say cooking helped her think and calmed her down, whenever a much younger version of Stiles joined her in the kitchen. And after she died, Stiles found out it worked well for him too.

He turned Derek into his own personal guinea pig and experimented the recipes he learned at the diner on him, taking notes on Derek's reactions and paying attention to his comments and favorites. Sometimes even Scott joined his brother in on those experiments, dragging Allison Argent along with him.

Summer was going perfectly.

It happened one day in the middle of July, when Stiles had Derek all for himself in his kitchen, testing the most recent recipe he learned on him. Practically covered in flour, he sat and leaned against the edge of the kitchen table and watched Derek chew slowly, his chin resting on his palm and a large, expectant grin on his lips as he saw Derek's face brighten.

"I think I just found my new favorite thing." He commented, gesturing at the huge pile of waffles, accompanied by three kinds of ice cream and home-made sweet foam and melted chocolate and sprinkles and what-not in front of him. "Even though I would probably have a heart attack at thirty, I may die a happy man." Derek added, and happily watched the satisfied grin grow on Stiles' face.

**You should see how Garcia makes these at the diner,** Stiles signed lazily with a content smile. **Next to hers, my waffles look like chocolate covered wood.**

"I wouldn't say _wood_," Derek teased, putting down his fork and stretching his arm to the side. "Cement, more likely." That earned him a punch to the shoulder, and an amused, playful snort.

**Asshole,** Stiles signed, laughing and straddling his lap teasingly. **You are just messing with me, aren't you?** Derek chuckled, soon joining him as Stiles flailing-ly leaped onto his lap and placed two dirty arms around his neck. The older man let out a fond laugh, running his thumb across Stiles' cheek.

"You got flour all over yourself," Derek smiled wolfishly, poking Stiles' stomach hard and making him groan in discomfort. "What exactly do you do there in the kitchen? Roll around on the counter?" Another smack hit the back of his head as Stiles leaned back a little. He let out a snort, grinning widely.

**I got carried away,** He explained, his gestures wide and enthusiastic, making clouds of flour fill Derek's personal space. Derek chuckled again, laughter bubbling in his throat. He didn't even know why he was laughing... he just knew that being around Stiles always did strange things to his insides and made him smile like a helplessly lovesick kid. **You know I love cooking for you.** Stiles signed, grinning proudly at the small gasps of laughter he got out of Derek – making him laugh that hard was not a simple task and Stiles took whatever he could get. The man shook his head, wrinkles of laughter showing at the corners of his eyes as he tried to breathe.

"Oh God, I love you." Derek suddenly blurted breathlessly, but then his laughter immediately died down as he realized what he just said.

The smile slid off Stiles' face in a second and his light brown eyes widened almost comically, his mouth falling open. Derek stopped laughing in an instant a moment later and froze, horror written all over his face. Then Stiles raised two shaky hands, leaning farther back in Derek's lap, as away from him as possible so he could stare at him in full shock.

**...what did you just say?** He signed slowly, wide and stunned eyes staring at Derek's face in disbelief.

"I..." Derek's mouth was suddenly very dry, and he cleared his throat and swallowed, then tried again. "I said, I love you." He hoped his voice sounded much more confident than he actually felt. Really, he thought his heart was gonna leap out of his chest and run for it's life like rats abandoning a sinking ship.

**You... do?** Was the slow, hesitated answer. Derek nodded, the tips of his ears burning bright red.

A soft, shy smile slowly broke Stiles' expression, and he hesitantly sneaked his arms back around Derek's neck, leaning forward as if he was asking for permission, for the first time since they met.

He then placed a gentle, tender kiss on Derek's lips, smiling against him as the kiss was returned with the same softness. Intimate and warm and sweet and... perfect.

* * *

An annoying buzz suddenly interrupted Derek's sleep, tearing him from a very questionable dream about Stiles and chocolate. He groaned and turned over, pulling the thin blanket over his head. He didn't want to abandon this dream... it was warm and fuzzy and felt so much like Stiles, that Derek wanted it to last forever. No more nightmares about his mother, bleeding to death on her office floor, no more sleepless, haunting nights of her calling for him to join her, over and over again. Because ever since Stiles came to be in his life, Derek's nightmares began to fade into pleasant dreams only.

The buzz kept going, making a very manly whimper to escape the back of his throat, and a lazy hand darted out from under the summer blanket and slammed itself down on the annoying alarm clock, knocking it off the nightstand with a loud thud. Derek winced and rolled onto his back, throwing his blanket off of his face and squinting his sleepy eyes at the ceiling.

Of course he was tired. Last night he stayed up too late, spending the evening with Stiles and Scott, who magically summoned Allison Argent to join them on movie night. How did the poor girl tolerate a whole marathon of 'Fast and Furious', Derek had no idea. She just kept sitting next to Scott and munch on his popcorn through the whole deal, and her hand kept brushing against his little brother's hand when they reached for it at the same time and-

Okay. Maybe he had _some_ idea as to why she stayed through the whole evening.

Anyway, his decision to stay up until dawn proved as a not-that-great idea as he first thought. He only got three hours of sleep before his alarm clock went off and ushered him to get up and get ready for work, and really, three hours were not nearly enough for him. Derek sighed.

No rest for the wicked, huh?

He was washed and dressed in less than fifteen minutes, slowly making his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Melissa was already sitting next to the table with a toast and one of the biggest mugs of coffee Derek had ever seen in his life. She smiled at him tiredly as he shuffled in, sliding a bowl of cereal across the table and pointing her chin at the chair in front of her.

"I heard you getting up so I went ahead and made you a breakfast of champions." She explained with a smirk at Derek's confused expression. He nodded.

"Thanks." He mumbled and dropped himself onto the chair, staring at the cereal floating in his bowl as if they offended him personally.

"Why do _you_ look so grumpy this morning?" Melissa asked with a raised eyebrow from across the table. "No Stiles last night?" Derek groaned and banged his forehead against the surface of the table, pausing when he found it was a rather comfortable position for a nap.

"Don't talk to me about Stiles," He moaned miserably into the polished wood. "That asshole still gets to sleep in on Sundays." Melissa chuckled.

"Oh, stop whining," She said with a waved hand. "I'm sure he's gonna come and visit you at work later and then you probably wouldn't look so miserable."

Derek shrugged, raising his head from the table. "Yeah," He agreed half-heartedly and picked up his spoon, shoving milk and already-too-mushy cereal into his mouth quickly.

He was out of the door in no time, going through the five-minutes drive to the record shop and parking his black Camaro at the small parking area saved for workers. The bell above the door jingled mockingly happily as he tiredly shuffled in, nodding at the twins.

"Hi." He said gloomily, rubbing at his left eye as he shed his jacket and threw it on the counter for the twins to hang. Aiden smirked, winking at his brother.

"This guy says hi, I want to kill myself."

"Wha-" Ethan stared at his twin for a second with an open mouth, then shook his head in disappointment. "Did you just quote Ross?" He asked, heavy judgement in his voice.

"You two just have to stop with that endless 'Friends' marathon, you're driving me crazy." A handsome, model-like teenage guy that Derek learned to know as Jackson Whittemore said from the back of the shop. There was a cocky, pleased smirk adoring his lips, and he chuckled shortly before going back to put stray records in their rightful place.

"Bite me." Aiden retorted, grinning. A quiet, displeased feminine cough was heard and then Jennifer's head appeared from behind one of the closer rows. She frowned at them, grasping her papers closer to her chest as she gave Aiden a scolding look.

"Language...!" She ordered as the twins nodded with matching grins. Her eyes flicked towards Derek for a brief moment, and she flashed him a smile, then quickly disappeared again behind the shelves, notes in hands. Derek shrugged, following her to the back rows as he realized he had nothing better to do.

"Do you need some help with that?" He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and pointed his chin at her papers. "It doesn't seem like costumers are gonna come soon anyway."

Jennifer smiled shyly at him, a pale blush tinting her cheeks as she nodded, handing him a couple of pages and a pen. "I'm making an inventory list of what we have, because we found that lately there were a few problems with previous deliveries." She explained and fiddled with her papers, not looking at him directly. "If you wanna help, you can write the name of the product on one column, then it's catalog number and number of copies we have next to it."

Derek nodded. "Sure." He said, giving her a small smile as he took the pages and picked up a record.

They worked in an awkward silence, except for the occasional jingle that indicated a coming of a costumer. They ignored it, leaving Jackson and the twins to assist the few costumers they had. They didn't really need them there anyway. As the hours passed quietly, Derek noticed that from time to time, when they happened to work on the same shelf, Jennifer would not-so-accidentally brush her hand against his. She would smile at him and snatch her hand back nervously, and try to hide the blush that formed on her cheeks.

Oh, boy.

It was near noon when the tension came to a peak that Jennifer finally turned to him and lowered her papers, clearing her throat gently. Derek tensed and stopped writing his notes, looking up at her in question, somewhat dreading the answer.

"Derek," She started awkwardly, and Derek could see how nervous she was. _Well,_ he thought dreadfully. _That makes two of us._ "I... you know... it's no secret that I like you-"

"I like you too, Jen," Derek's confused expression softened into a warm, small smile as he tried to provide her a safe escape opening. "You know that."

"Yeah, I-I know." She let out a short, nervous, edgy laugh as the door bell joyfully jingled again. "But I mean, I really like you. And what I wanted to ask you, um, well, would you like to go ou-"

"Yo, Derek!" Ethan's voice suddenly called from the other side of the store, interrupting her speech. "There's a Stiles here to see you!"

Derek's face lit up in a way that made Jennifer stop immediately and close her mouth. It took the poor girl a few seconds, but the strangely soft look on Derek's face soon made it clear of what was going on. And when he gave her an apologetic smile and mumbled a quick, "I'm sorry, be right back." And hurried away, she finally understood.

Peeking from her place behind the shelf, Jennifer could see the exact, intimate way Derek's arms fit perfectly around the unfamiliar boy's waist. A boy - no older than eighteen, nineteen, tops - that had the kindest smile and the sweetest eyes. The way Derek looked at him... she was no competition, she knew that.

They glanced at her for a second, and Jennifer waved at them sadly back, forcing a smile on her face as the boy - Stiles - waved back with a wide smile. She locked eyes with Derek's one last time...

Then went back to her notes.

* * *

Stiles hung around in the shop for the rest of Derek's shift, sneaking kisses when he thought nobody looked. He got to know the twins - definitely liking Ethan better - while ignoring Jackson's cocky, sometime mean comments. Ethan quickly learned a few expressions in sign language, using Derek as an interpreter. He was eager to learn more while Aiden just wanted to know how to sign swear words, and mastered sign spelling in no time. They put on some music, laughing and cheering when Derek suddenly pulled a laughing Stiles into a slow dance.

Jennifer seemed to avoid him on a principle, claiming to be too busy whenever they asked her to join them. Derek even tried talking to her privately one time, but she said she had 'lots of work to do' and turned her back on him.

When his shift ended, Derek waved goodbye and goodnight at everyone and sneaked his arm around Stiles' waist, leading him out of the store. The sun was already setting, but the air was still warm as the sky slowly changed color from flaming orange to the deep dark blue of summer nights. Derek was just about to take his car keys out when Stiles put his hand up to stop him.

**Let's go for some ice-cream?** He asked, smiling hopefully as he moved his fist up and down in front of his face. Derek nodded, putting his keys back.

"Sure." He returned the smile.

The small ice-cream shop was crowded, and Derek took their cones and followed Stiles who was crammed over a tiny table at the back, watching him eagerly as Derek handed him his peanut butter and chocolate chips ice-scream.

**You'll never guess what happened last night.** Stiles signed single-handedly. Derek followed the movements carefully, frowning a little at the strangely signed words.

"Then tell me." He answered lightly, licking slowly at his lemon and mango cone.

**Scott and Allison are dating.**

Derek choked on his ice cream.

"What!" He coughed loudly, making a few of the couples around them give him nasty, disgusted looks. He ignored them. "How? When?"

**He asked her last night, when he walked her home.** Stiles signed, chuckling at Derek's still flushed face as he tried to regain control of his breath.

"Attaboy," Derek snorted, shaking his head.

**It's about time, too.** Stiles laughed, his sweetly hoarse voice making Derek swallow hard as his heart gave a few quicker thumps. **He's been pining for her for years, ever since she moved into B-E-A-C-O-N H-I-L-L-S.**

"Well," Derek said once he wasn't fighting for his life, scratching at his nose. "We should definitely go on a double date with them sometime."

Stiles smiled softly, lowering his cone to the table. He looked at Derek warmly.

**Yeah. We totally should.**

* * *

_**Nights when the heat has gone out,**_

_**We danced together alone.**_

_**Cold turned out breath into clouds,**_

_**We never said what we were dreaming of.**_

_**You turned me into somebody loved.**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Somebody Loved" / The Weepies.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** See? I CAN write happy things, too :) This time, what probably most of you were waiting for.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 12

* * *

_**Pardon the way that I stare,**_

_**There's nothing else to compare.**_

* * *

Their double date idea ended up being a pretty bad one, as the new couple proved to be quite impossible to stand. Scott and Allison, as cute and amazing as they were together, were absolutely, completely and totally sickening. Stiles loved them both, he really did. But they were at this terrible stage of their relationship where you couldn't stand being around them for too long without constantly puking sugar and rainbows.

So in the end, the shared evening ended with him and Derek looking at each other for help and communicating silently with desperate attempts to find an excuse to get the hell out of there. Far away from all the touching and the kissing and the embarrassing, naked love in the eyes of the new couple as the two stared at each other, without touching their plates even once.

**Please,** Stiles signed in disgust when they finally, _finally_ got out of the restaurant, leaving Scott and Allison to mentally undress each other by themselves. Well, them, plus the poor waiter that still tried to get their order, without much success. **Please tell me we weren't **_**that**_** nauseating when we started dating.**

Derek chuckled, wrapping one arm around Stiles' waist as he led him away from the restaurant's warm orange light, his fingers caressing the teen's side under the blue plaid shirt he wore.

"I really don't think we were that terrible to be around," He answered with a smirk as he rubbed his chin in a mocking gesture. "But we were definitely had our fair share of shameful moments with all the..." A half amused, half horrified expression crossed his face at the memory as he said, "...giggling."

Stiles shuddered.

**My poor, poor dad.** He signed, shaking hid head, and Derek nodded feverishly as they walked, still connected to each other side by side.

**So, speaking of my dad,** Stiles touched his forehead hesitantly, slowing down to a pause in the middle of the street so he could look at Derek better. **He's been bugging me for weeks now to bring you home for dinner...** He trailed off, his hands slowing and dropping down as he watched Derek's expression turning from curious-puppy to interested in a blink.

"Seriously?" He asked, and a small, open and happy smile started spreading on his usually serious face, and Stiles nodded his confirmation in relief. "Sure, of course I'll be there! Honestly, I can't believe he doesn't hate my guts-"

**Who said he doesn't?** Stiles smirked playfully and winked, resuming his walk forwards with a hint of a cocky, swaying march, followed by a laughing Derek.

"You're an impossible asshole," He commented as he caught up with him, sneaking his arm around Stiles' waist once again. The teen let out a laugh, leaning a bit closer to Derek.

**That's my charm.** He signed, standing briefly on his tiptoes and pecking Derek's lips before he smiled at him brightly, hand wrapped around Derek's middle as well.

* * *

"So, Derek." Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and leaned a bit back in his chair, putting his fork and knife down and watching the young, frightened man with a calm and calculated expression. "Have you two done it yet?"

Stiles suddenly made a strangled noise that sounded like an elephant being run-over and coughed, tiny bits of steak and mashed potatos spraying out of his mouth. Oh, gross.

Derek, on his part, practically had the expression of a baby deer caught in the headlights, and so didn't pay his choking boyfriend any attention as he chose to just quickly sip on his glass of water like a dying man, swallowing hard and shaking his head with his green eyes wide and nearly frightened.

"N-no, sir." He stammered - honest to God stammered. He felt like a little boy being scolded by his father... how was that even possible.

"You mean, not _yet_," The Sheriff cleared with a tiny smirk, making Stiles whimper like a wounded animal in his seat. The bastard enjoyed it.

"Da- uh, da-d!" Stiles managed to cry out loud, startling both his father and Derek. It was the first time Derek got to hear Stiles' voice since they first started dating, and as strangled and stuttered it was, it was the most beautiful sound he ever heard. He wanted - needed - to hear it again.

Stiles was glaring at his father now with his ears and cheeks burning red, half panting as his hands shot up in the air and started flailing so fast that a very stunned Derek pretty much missed half of it.

**Jesus, dad! What the hell ... ... doing? ... you ... ... scare him away? That ... ... ... embarrassing, dad, oh my God!**

The Sheriff just smirked at his son's flustered expression, waiting for him to finish. "Are you done?" He asked when Stiles finally stilled his hands and lowered them, resting them on top of the table. The teen sharply nodded once, his ears burning as he avoided Derek's stare.

"Good." Stiles' father said, leaning forwards and resting his elbow on the edge of the table, smirking knowingly at the two boys. "Because I don't care what exactly you two do or don't do together, but as adults, I want to make sure you act safely."

"If it's about condoms, sir, I assure you we know how to use them." Derek said with all the confidence he could muster - which wasn't much, to be honest - as Stiles made a final, desperate attempt to drown himself in his mashed potatos.

"Condoms, lube-" The Sheriff added, ignoring the pathetic, wounded noises his son made at the farther end of the table with every word he said. "-safe preparations, the whole package." He said. "I don't want you kids to get hurt, I heard it could be quite painful when it's done wrong."

Derek nodded, still finding it hard to believe he was having his first safe-sex conversation at age twenty two, and with Stiles' father, of all people.

"We'll be safe," He promised.

"Good, good." The Sheriff sighed heavily, pushing his chair away from the table with a groan and standing up, stretching his arm to the side. "Listen... you boys don't mind clearing up here? I really have to go to work." He asked hopefully, tiredly glancing at the full table. Stiles shrugged.

**Night shift?** He asked, the first words he dared contributing to the amazingly, impressively awkward conversation.

"Yeah," His father answered, shuffling to grab his keys and jacket from their place by the front door, followed by Stiles and his boyfriend, who came to say goodbye and goodnight. The Sheriff pulled his jacket on and adjusted his collar, turning to smile at Derek. "It was nice finally meeting you, kid." He said warmly, patting Derek's shoulder. A smile broke on his lips.

"Same here, sir."

"Do me a favor, will ya?" Sheriff Stilinski leaned closed and lowered his voice as if he was telling Derek a secret. "Take care of my hurricane of a son, okay? He gets himself into enough troubles as it is." The young man snorted, nodding.

"Of course I will. I know how much of a handfull he can-" An annoyed noise interuppted him and he glanced aside with a wide, wolfish grin to see Stiles glaring at them as he cleared his throat in irritation.

**You know I can hear you, right?** He signed annoyingly, movements sharp and snappy. **I'm standing right here.**

The Sheriff just laughed in response, ruffling his son's hair and patting Derek's back as he finally moved to walk out the door, chuckling to himself on his way to his cruiser.

"Have fun, boys! Play safe!" He called over his shoulder, amused by the flustered cry his son let out from his place by the front door.

Stiles could swear he had the worst dad in the whole world.

"You know... he's right." Derek said quietly as soon as they closed the door, the squeaking tires of the Sheriff's cruiser fading in the distance. Stiles turned to him in question, locking the door behind them. Derek shrugged nervously. "About, about the sex thing, I mean."

Stiles turned tomato-red in a second.

**Do you-** He started in embarrassment, paused, then tried again. **Do you want to, I mean, are you ready for...?**

Derek nodded eagerly.

"But, only if you're ready," He hurried to add, pale pink tinting his ears. "I know you're still a... um,"

Stiles nodded, swallowing hard. Derek sucked in a deep breath.

"Okay," He let it out with a soft 'whoosh', smiling weakly at his boyfriend. "Do you want to go upstairs?" Stiles nodded again.

They made it quickly up the stairs and into Stiles' bedroom, closing the door behind them with a quiet click. Stiles moved towards and climbed on the bed, awkwardly sitting in the center with his legs crossed as he watched, honey eyes wide, as Derek approached gingerly and lowered himself to the edge of the bed.

No one tried to move.

So awkward.

It was Stiles who finally made the first move, reaching his hand forwards and tagging at Derek's shirt as if asking for permission, before he slid his hand under it and hesitantly caressed Derek's stomach mascles. The young man shivered, his greenish eyes closing as a soft sigh left his lips, his shoulders tense.

Truth be told, it wasn't like they haven't done anything like that before. They were both two, healthy young men, and they liked to share their love quite often. They made out for the most of their time alone together, never being shy with kisses and touches in public. Contact wasn't strange to them.

But this - this was different from any other time they touched each other. This time was supposed to lead to some things Stiles only heard about, read about, or watched in movies. It was just... different.

He pushed Derek's shirt up a little, leaning in to kiss him gently as the other's hand sneaked to run along Stiles' spine under his own shirt, sending shivers through his body. They shifted closer as Derek kicked his shoes off, pulling himself onto the bed and crawling mid-kiss onto Stiles' lap, his arms on either side of Stiles' hips.

In a swift, matching motion, they pulled each other's shirts off and tossed them to the side, bare chests heaving as they both huffed a nervous laugh, smiling shyly at each other. It was Stiles' first time, and it was also Derek's first time ever with another guy, all his past experiences with women forgotten the moment he met Stiles.

Derek ran his hand across the teen's heaving chest, smiling at the blush that tinted his cheeks as Derek's fingers trailed their way down to tight skin of his waist, pausing at the hem of his jeans. He could see the pulse in the teen's neck beating faster, his chest shuddering every second breath. The hand resumed it's path, sliding over Stiles' pant leg and gently gripping at his calf, lifting it a bit off the bed and making Stiles slide into a half-lying, half-sitting position.

**What are you doing?** Stiles asked nervously with one hand as Derek pressed his cheek against his calf, pushing the jeans up enough to reveal the pale skin Derek currently started kissing. His fingers fumbled with the zipper of Stiles' black boot, pulling it off and dropping it onto the floor with a loud, 'thud'.

"Undressing you," Derek mumbled with a smirk, looking up at Stiles with half-lidded green eyes as he kept kissing his way up Stiles' leg until he couldn't roll his jeans up anymore.

"O, oh." Stiles whispered sheepishly, his heart racing, and Derek's head snapped up in a second to stare at him in wonder, a warm smile spreading over his face.

"Do it again." He asked, a hint of pleading in his green eyes. Stiles tilted his head a little in question.

**Do what again?**

"Speak." Derek smiled softly, a rare, open and vulnerable expression saved only for Stiles and Scott gracing his usually rough face. "Sigh, groan, scream - I don't care. I just want to hear your voice."

Stiles froze, his wide, surprised brown eyes staring at Derek silently, his lips parted as if he was about to say something. But he couldn't. Of course he couldn't. His brain wouldn't let it be that easy...

But he nodded nonetheless, and propped himself up on his elbows and pushed up into sitting again, drawing Derek closer as a concentrated expression scrunched his face, his mouth struggling with the movements he tried to force it into.

"De, Deh..." He tried, pausing and closing his eyes in frustration, his eyebrows drawing together as he gripped at Derek's shoulder. He took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Deh- er, eh-ek." He managed to say, opening his eyes to look at his boyfriend. He released a breath, closing his mouth and shaking his head. **I'm sorry, it's just that your name is a bit difficult... too many C-O-N-S-O-N-A-N-T-S.** He signed with an apologetic expression and looked down, spelling the last bit.

But Derek didn't answer. He just sat there silently, and when Stiles looked up he saw an expression of wonder and awe, and pure love radiating from every feature on his face. It was so open and vulnerable Stiles found it almost painful to watch. He was staring at Stiles, wide eyed and lips parted, his hands resting limply on his lap as he unconsciously leaned closer to Stiles, drawn to him.

"Your voice," He whispered, almost to himself. "It's..."

Stiles shrugged. **What, pathetic?** He tried to joke. **Yeah, I know. I sound really stupid, like a broken record.**

"No." Derek answered quietly, reaching to grab onto Stiles' shoulder. His voice got stronger as he continued. "No. You're not. It's... the most beautiful sound I've ever... you... you are-" He struggled for a few more seconds, before suddenly giving up and pulling Stiles closer with a quick motion, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

**Oh, now you're just being all soft,** Stiles mocked as soon as they parted, a smirk dancing on his lips even though the pale blush on his cheeks gave up his actual embarrassment and satisfaction at Derek's speech.

"Shut up," Derek mumbled with a faint smirk of his own, and pushed him back down firmly.

**Oh wow. Very manly. Derek is man. Derek make fire.**

"I. Said. Shut. Up." Derek gritted out, stressing each word with a kiss along Stiles' neck, feeling the laughter rumble inside him as he slowly started moving down to his chest.

His only response was a low moan.

There wasn't much talking after that - or in Stiles' case, signing - but the noises never stopped. They decided not to have it the traditional way, as they were lacking condoms or lube and Derek really didn't want to give the Sheriff any reason to go after him... plus, protection was a serious thing. But, they didn't let minor details like that stop them. There were other ways, safer ways, and Stiles was eager enough to make them work.

Despite being speech impaired, Stiles proved to be the vocal one of the two, much to Derek's delight. He got to hear all kind of sounds escaping out of him, and every time they did it made Derek's heart make a little excited dance in his chest. It was beautiful - the erotic, toxic sighs whenever Derek placed a well-aimed kiss on sensitive skin, the pleading whimpers and whines and shrieks of need when Derek finally, oh God, _finally_ pulled their pants off, rubbing against him so agonizingly slowly and sending shivers through his whole body... and the panted groans, all the desperate moans that made Derek's mind go blank as Stiles dug his fingernails into his shoulder and wrapped one leg around him when they were at last completely naked, breathing heavily and rolling his hips in ways that made Derek see white.

He reached between them, wrapping a large hand around both of their dicks while Stiles let out a sharp cry, throwing his head back and arching off the bed. The delicious sound of his husky, hoarse voice almost made Derek come right then and there, but he groaned through gritted teeth and forced himself to hold on, stroking them faster together as he panted, waited to see all the beautiful reactions he could get from the teen beneath him.

It didn't take much longer for them to finish, with Stiles suddenly freezing in a middle of an arch, his face flushed and his brown eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent scream as he shook violently, secured in Derek's arms. Derek then felt Stiles' arms tightening around his torso, so warm and good and perfect he couldn't do anything but tremble against him as he came too. His hand faltered in the middle of a squeeze and stopped, pressing them hard together as Derek buried his face in Stiles' shoulder, and a choked moan escaped his throat.

They stayed like this for the longest moment, basking in the pleasure of their shared afterglow, panting and shaking and so overly happy.

When Stiles finally let go of his deathgrip around his boyfriend, Derek rolled off of him with a heavy, tired but pleased movement, landing on his back with a heaving chest.

"That... was... a-amazing." He said, still slightly panting. "You, were amazing."

He could feel Stiles nodding passionately beside him, and he let out a breathy chuckle, rolling to his side and propping himself on one arm, the other reaching over to pull Stiles closer.

"You are beautiful," He mumbled in his ear as he kissed his temple, smiling against his skin. "I love you."

It took Stiles a little longer than it should have, but he then rolled over as well and smiled at Derek, raising his right fist between them with his thumb and pinky

standing out.

**Me too.**

Oh.

OH.

He wouldn't say it back... Stiles never said it back.

And Derek just smiled weakly at him and moved over, kissing Stiles' neck gently with a soft, trembling sigh before resting his head on his chest and closing his eyes. He didn't want Stiles to see the disappointment.

But Stiles? Of course he knew.

* * *

_**You're just too good to be true,**_

_**Can't take my eyes off of you.**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" / Frankie Valli.

Warnings: Very mild smut, but still.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Oh my God guys, we have plot in this chapter! Thank you all for the kind messages and faves and follows :) You guys are awesome.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 13

* * *

_**I've been searching for a reason.**_

_**And I'm running out of time.**_

_**I can feel that it's the season.**_

_**It's time to make up my mind.**_

* * *

Time seemed to sweep by as fast as a breeze when you're in love... although Stiles Stilinski was still not quite ready to admit that particular word just yet.

Summer was nearing it's end, the last days of August spent as best they could think of, full with visits to every possible swimming pool and trips to the beach, evenings on the Stilinski's roof and late night movies at Scott and Derek's house. It was a perfect summer romance, Stiles thought. Better than anything he ever imagined and ever wished for.

As the final days of summer came, the group of teens had come to a decision to go on one last vacation together, before all of them scattered to different colleges and universities.

The destination: Ontario, Oregon.

A lacrosse tournament was scadualed for the very next week, and Stiles, along with Scott and Isaac, made plans to go on and watch it, as they were all part of the lacrosse team at school. On one shared evening at the McCall house, Lydia Martin overheard one of their excited conversations about the tournament and counted herself in, signing both Allison and Jackson in to come as well. She was bold and determined about the whole thing, no one even dared to resist her.

_It isn't so bad, actually, when you think about it._ Stiles thought as he laid awake in his bed that night. _Well, except maybe Jackson._

His phone suddenly buzzed quietly on his nightstand, and Stiles turned over and reached for it, flicking it open and smiling as he saw the message.

_[11:07 PM] Are you still up?_ Was the short message from Derek.

_[11:09 PM] Yup. Why?_

_[11:09 PM] Just checking._

And then, _[11:10 PM] So I hear everyone is joining you guys after all._

Stiles' mouth fell open as he stared at his screen for several seconds. _[11:11 PM] HOW ON EARTH DID YOU FIND OUT THAT FAST?!_ He typed feverishly.

_[11:11 PM] A little bird told me._

Stiles raised an eyebrow.

_[11:12 PM] Lydia?_

_[11:12 PM] Scott._

Was the reply.

_[11:13 PM] Should've guessed._ Stiles smiled at his phone.

_[11:14 PM] Listen... can I see you tomorrow?_ Was Derek's next message. _[11:15 PM] I know it's gonna be a busy day, what with the packing and all. But I want to have some time with you before you go._

Stiles smirked, even though his heart swelled at the words he just read.

_[11:16 PM] Sure, you big sap. You don't even have to ask, ya know._

_[11:16 PM] Shut up._

_[11:17 PM] Ok. See you tomorrow?_

_[11:17 PM] Yeah. Goodnight. I love you._

_[11:19 PM] G'night._

Was all Stiles could say back.

He didn't fall asleep until dawn.

* * *

The next day was indeed a busy one. The minute Stiles got up that morning, his phone rang and Scott's panicked voice screamed at him he couldn't find his tickets anywhere. For a few long minutes of stressful yells from the other side, Stiles listened. He rolled his eyes and sighed, then hung up and texted Scott to look under the lamp on his nightstand. The embarrassed reply he got a minute later proved he was right, and so Stiles dropped his phone to the bed and went on to start his morning.

He had a session with Erica today, Stiles knew. She wanted to have some time with him to make sure he was ready for the trip, to a place with people he didn't know and that probably wouldn't be so understanding of his situation. Here, in Beacon Hills, anyone rarely made fun of Stiles for his mutism, since he was both a really lovable kid, and the Sheriff's son. But there? There was no guarantee he'd get the same treatment.

The session went surprisingly smoothly - considering how nervous and excited Stiles was - and with very little problems and stops at all, and at the end Erica got up from her couch and approached him, pulling him into a warm hug. He was pressed hard against her breasts, head squeezed into the crook of her neck as she held him in a death grip, mumbling in his ear.

"I'm so proud of you, baby!" She said with a wide smile, her breath warm on his ear as she pulled him tighter, her breasts squeezed against his chest. His ears burnt. "You go and have a good time, okay?" She said and he nodded as she finally let go and moved to hold him at arm-length, looking him over.

**Of course.** He smiled.

Erica's smile grew warmer as she looked at him. "I can't believe you're not in school anymore," She said. "It feels as if just yesterday the company assigned me to be your interpreter. You were so tiny back then!" She half laughed, half wiped at the corner of her eye. Stiles let out a groan.

**You are not THAT much older than me.** He stressed with a half-hearted scowl, motions wide and large. Erica waved her hand lightly, smiling.

"Doesn't matter." She said, and quickly placed a brief kiss on his forehead, leaping away before he could hit her. "You are still my baby-Stiles-boo~"

Stiles just groaned. Sometimes he seriously thought the person who gave Erica Reyes her diploma was high on heavy drugs, or at least half-insane.

How was this even his life.

* * *

"Promise to text me every night before you go to sleep."

Stiles sighed. Derek was looking at him seriously, both his hands resting on Stiles' hips as the teen not-so-subtly pinned him onto the Jeep's door at the Stilinskis' garage.

**That's the third time you asked me today, Derek, and it's just for a week. You know I will, just shut up already.** Stiles signed, trying to look annoyed, but the small smirk that danced at corner of his lips kind of ruined the effect. Derek's green eyes glittered playfully in the darkness of the night.

"Make me." He mumbled in a low voice, leaning in a little closer to Stiles' face. The teen smiled, eyes drifting to Derek's lips before he closed the distance between them. The kiss was long and slow, a sweet battle of tongues and lips as hands lazily slid to places no one else beside them should see.

A car passed by and slowed down next to them to a halt, and then Jackson Whittemore's head suddenly poked out of the silver Porsche's window, snarkily smirking at them with a raised eyebrow. The two jumped and pulled away from each other with a start. Derek smiled awkwardly and buried his forehead in Stiles' neck.

"You're not planning on undressing each other here, right?" He chuckled evilly. "I just ate." Lydia, who was riding shotgun, let out a short, amused giggle. Stiles blushed furiously.

**Stuff it, jackass.** He signed sharply, ears burning in embarrassment. Derek raised his head just in time to see Jackson turn to Lydia in confusion.

"What did he just say to me?" They heard him ask her quietly, but she waved him off.

"You don't wanna know." She answered lightly, and winked at Stiles when Jackson turned away. She leaned over him, her elbows on his thighs as she rested her chin on her palm, looking up at the couple outside. "Is Scott here yet?" She asked. Stiles shook his head.

"He said he was picking Isaac up." Derek contributed, shrugging.

"He's on his way," Allison's voice suddenly said from the backseat of Jackson's Porsche. Stiles didn't see her there, but when she waved her phone in front of them to show Scott's latest massage, he noticed her dark figure sitting curled in the backseat with a thin blanket and a bag of snacks beside her.

As if on a cue, Scott's green motorcycle appeared up the road, rolling towards them and slowing down. With his dark curls messy and his face pale, Isaac hopped off the back on shaking legs the minute they stopped, mumbling under his breath something about uneven-jawed psychos with a fake driver's licence. The motorcycle kept rumbling lowly as Scott grinned at everyone, removing his helmet.

"Can I park my baby in your dad's garage?" He asked Stiles, who shrugged and nodded, wiggling out of Derek's arms to pat soothingly on a very unstable Isaac's back. Scott didn't wait for anything more and drove straight into the garage, only by miracle not knocking half of the Sheriff's stuff off the shelves. He came back slower, carrying two large bags on either of his shoulders. "Thanks for helping," He hissed dryly at Isaac, dropping the bags to the ground with a groan and a 'thud'.

"You tried to kill me." Isaac accused him half-heartedly with a frown. Everyone laughed.

Allison stuck her head out of the backseat window, waiting patiently for Scott to reach her. They kissed right there in front of everyone, and Stiles just grumbled to himself. Derek was the only one close enough to hear that.

They soon loaded their bags and split into two cars - Scott joined Allison in the backseat of Jackson's Porsche, while Isaac turned to accompany Stiles in his blue Jeep, sliding into the passanger seat to wait for him.

Stiles was the only one left out of either car, still standing there in the V of Derek's legs, who was still leaning against the driver's door of Stiles' Jeep. Stiles shifted and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, leaning in close and resting his forehead against his. Everyone else at least had the decency to look away, and Isaac suddenly started wondering very loudly what the weather in Oregon would be while Scott cooperated with a little too much enthusiasm. Stiles appreciated it very much. They gave them a chance for a proper goodbye.

**I'll miss you.** Stiles signed slowly, sliding one hand off of Derek's neck to touch his own chin with a gentle gesture. Derek smirked, but his eyes were warm and soft as he pulled Stiles closer to him.

"Now who's the sap," He mumbled quietly, so close his breath ghosted over Stiles' lips. Stiles snorted softly.

**Be serious.** He scolded him playfully, smacking his shoulder lightly.

"I am. Very." Derek said with mock grave expression. Stiles' shy smirk turned into a chuckle. He shook his head twice, then moved closer to Derek, his nose brushing against the other's.

He didn't need to say anything else, just leaned in to kiss him gently in a way that said everything he couldn't voice. And when they parted, it was in silence, and Stiles moved away and climbed onto his Jeep and started the car. He gave Derek one last look out of his window and smiled at him with that special look he saved only for him, then stepped on the gas and drove away after Jackson's Porsche, leaving Derek's dark figure behind in the Stilinkis' driveway.

They were just turning at the end of street when Isaac, who was chewing at his bottom lips for the past two minutes, suddenly looked at him curiously. "You really do love him, don't you?" He asked quietly.

Stiles didn't answer.

* * *

_**And I can't really tell you what I'm gonna do.**_

_**There are too many thoughts in my head.**_

_**There are two roads to walk down and one road to choose,**_

_**So I'm thinking over the things that you've said.**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Thinking Over" / Dana Glover.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Okay, I am so, so sorry for taking so long to update. I moved into a new place this week and barely had time to sleep, let alone open my laptop.

Please note that there are warnings in this chapter. It was hard to write and kind of left me breathless when I finished it, so yeah.

_Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed._

**Summary:** 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 14

* * *

_**We are the reckless,**_

_**We are the wild youth.**_

_**Chasing visions of our futures.**_

* * *

Their motel surprisingly was... almost acceptable. That is, if you had low standards.

It was definitely not a five-stars, but the sheets barely had any stains on them and the smell of penicillin was faint enough that a few squeezes of spray deodorant covered it pretty well. With another much appreciated addition in the shape of the girls' perfumes, their gloomy rooms finally became a little bit more than welcoming.

Lydia, of course, rented a room with Jackson, and Scott - after a short, quick apology to Stiles - went with Allison, leaving him to share a room with the only other available group member - Isaac. It wasn't like Stiles wasn't happy about sharing a room with Isaac, and frankly, Scott's claim was understandable, despite his unhealthy, disturbing need to be glued to Allison every waking moment. Stiles didn't blame him.

Well, maybe just a little.

Anyway, they were all currently lounging in Lydia and Jackson's room, since they were the only ones who could afford a room with a television. Plus, Jackson was generous enough to order all of them some pizza, and so they all stayed there for movie night, chatting and joking and discussing the future games excitedly.

They were going through their fourth movie when Allison's head started dropping onto Scott's shoulder, cuing everyone to their beds. They got up and pretended to clean a little before Lydia shooed them all out, closing her door as everyone parted to their own rooms.

"Big game tomorrow, huh?" Isaac asked as he dropped himself onto his bed, yawning. Stiles nodded with a large grin.

**Can't wait.** He signed quickly, sitting down and kicking his shoes off as he climbed onto his bed as well. **Aren't you going to sleep?** He asked after a few seconds, when Isaac showed no sign of getting ready for bed. Isaac looked slightly thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.

"I think I'm gonna go get something from the machine outside." He said, getting up on his feet and stretching. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

Stiles shrugged. **Surprise me.** He signed. Isaac chuckled, closing the door behind him as he left.

The moment he was gone, Stiles rolled over with a groan and reached for his bag, fishing out his phone and turning the screen on with an eager smile. He had twenty one missed calls, and there were fourteen new messages blinking slowly on his screen. Stiles soon found out that two were from his dad, twelve from Derek. Of course.

_[09:34 PM] Hi kiddo. You are not answering you phone. Call me when you get there.  
[09:52 PM] Hi babe. Where are you?  
[10:46 PM] Stiles.  
[10:48 PM] STILES.  
[10:57 PM] You promised you were gonna call when you get there, you little shit.  
[11:13 PM] Stiles. It's your father. Whatever you're doing, just call your boyfriend already, he's driving me crazy.  
[11:22 PM] S  
[11:22 PM] T  
[11:23 PM] I  
[11:23 PM] L  
[11:23 PM] E  
[11:23 PM] SSSSS.  
[11:24 PM] I swear to God, if you don't answer in the next ten minutes  
[11:35 PM] That's it. No sex. Ever._

Stiles laughed, placing his palm over his mouth ti stop himself from being too loud. His shoulders shook as he couldn't hold it in and let out a snort, first typing back to calm his father.

[_01:04 AM] Hi dad, I'm alive. Forgot to call, sorry. We are having fun here in this dusty motel, and tomorrow we gonna go see the game. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you._

He pressed 'send' and smiled, proceeding to text Derek next. He was still lightly laughing, amused by Derek's childish, needy messages. He was so going to hold that against him when they get back home.

_[01:09 AM] U still up?_ He sent. He waited for a whole three minutes before he typed in another message. _[01:12 AM] I know you're up._

No response.

_[01:15 AM] Oh come on. I'm sorry, okay?_

_[01:15 AM] YOU DAMN WELL SHOULD BE._

The reply was instant. Stiles snorted.

_[01:16 AM] How was your day? _Stiles typed back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips._ [01:16 AM] Did u miss me?_

_[01:16 AM] Of course not, you stupid pip-squeak._

_[01:18 AM] Hey! I'm nearly as tall as you are! Plus, I know you're lying, judging by the giant shitload of calls and texts u sent me today._

_[01:19 AM] Shut up._

_[01:19 AM] Don't you just hate it when I'm always right?_

Stiles typed with a smug, cocky grin.

_[01:20 AM] I'm not talking to you._

_[01:20 AM] U are now._

_[01:21 AM] If you don't shut it, I'm gonna shove a cactus up your ass, shithead._

_[01:21 AM] That's the most romantic thing you ever said to me._

_[01:23 AM] You're impossible._

_[01:23 AM] I know. Thats why u love me._

Stiles sent that without thinking, freezing on the spot when he realized what he just said. That was cruel... saying that before Stiles could even be absolutely sure he actually loved Derek back. It seemed like Derek was stunned as well, as it took him nearly five minutes to reply.

_[01:28 AM] It's late. You should go to bed, big day tomorrow._

_[01:30 AM] Yeah._

Stiles sent, typing slowly. He was chewing at his bottom lip, heart pounding nervously and chest heavy with the unjustified guilt he felt for not being able to return the emotion. _[01:10 AM] You're right._

_[01:31 AM] Okay. Goodnight._

_[01:32 AM] Goodnight._

* * *

The heavy feeling from their conversation lingered over Stiles' heart all night, and even when he got up in the morning after the little sleep he'd gotten, he still felt terrible about the way it ended. He could practically see Derek's disappointed, hurt face, the face the man tried to hide every time Stiles didn't say the words back.

Truth is, Stiles was thinking about it. He turned the subject countless times in his head, arguing with himself and studying his own feelings, complicated as they were. But every time he thought he finally found an answer, he's change his mind or find a silver of doubt, and that was enough to get him to chicken out and shut his mouth.

He was dressed and ready before Isaac could even get out of bed, waiting for the other to finish washing his face. They were supposed to be outside in ten minutes, as Lydia ordered while knocking on their door furiously earlier. Stiles stood at the bathroom's door, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor impatiently. Isaac shot him an annoyed glare through the mirror, huffing as he reached for his towel.

"Anyone ever told you you are annoying as fuck?" He grumbled, lowering his towel and sniffling once.

**Yes**. Stiles signed, untangling his arms. **We need to get going, you know. I don't want to get Lydia mad.**

As if on a cue, a rapid knocking was heard from their door, and a shrill voice calling. "Stiles, Isaac, I swear to God we can and will go without you! Get your asses out here!" Too late, Stiles thought gloomily. Lydia was already pissed.

Isaac got dressed in record time and they both were out before Lydia could even knock again. Everyone else were already there, waiting for them in a safe distance from the pissed strawberry-blonde girl. She stood there with her arms crossed and jaw so tight Stiles worried she might break her teeth.

Without a word, she threw her hair over her shoulder and turned around, marching away toward the stairs with her heels clicking and hips swaying. Jackson quickly followed, prompting the others to hurry after them as well.

The day passed with no farther incidents. That is, until dinner.

They went to a small diner two streets away from where the game was going to be later, grabbing a quick meal before the excitement start. They were laughing and talking amongst themselves, discussing the game and the odds feverishly. Stiles waved his arms around enthusiastically, trying to prove his point as Isaac kept arguing about the chances their favorite team had.

Half-way through, though, a mocking laughter suddenly sounded from the booth next to them, making their conversation die in an instant.

"Look at this freak," One beefy guy said, leaning back in his bench and covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. His friends - there were three of them - chuckled. "Is he retarded or something?" He was looking at Stiles.

Stiles' face turned bright red in a second.

Silence fell over their table. He felt Scott tense next to him, his fist tightening on his knee, and heard Isaac hiss dangerously on his other side. Across from him, Lydia's expression hardened into the most frightening cold mask Stiles had ever seen, and she set her fork on the table with a loud click that startled everyone around the table. She turned to the side slowly, her cold green eyes focusing on the still snickering guy.

"Excuse me?" She said slowly, her voice calm. But the gang already knew how to spot the dangerous signs of an upcoming storm. The guy gave her a look, smirking as he didn't even pretend to hide the fact he was checking her out.

"Whoa, hello there gorgeous." He said, one of his friends - a tall guy with black hair and a pierced ear - whistled in agreement. "Com'ere for a second, let me see that smokin' body." Lydia's jaw hardened, Jackson growling next to her in a barely contained rage. She put a hand on his knee to calm him down, then stood up and walked over to the table next to them. She stopped in front of the beefy guy, leaning forwards on one hand she flattened on the table. The guy smirked up at her, raising his eyebrows and nodding at his friends proudly.

"I assume you think this line would make every girl just... jump into your arms?" She said coldly, poison dripping from her voice as she leaned in until her nose was inches from his. Her hard, green eyes stared straight into his as she continued. "But I couldn't find a more disgusting man even if I tried. You know what they say about men with a constant need to show how large and confident they are...?" She trailed off, her gaze dropping briefly to his crotch before she looked back at him with a sneer, straightening up in a sudden movement. She turned around, walking back to her friends, that were sitting there, stunned and still around the table.

It took exactly three seconds for the cheering to explode around their table - and in a few others that heard the conversation - and even that guy's friends chuckled a little, watching as an angry blush spread on his cheeks. He got up sharply and stormed out of the diner, slamming the door behind him.

No one mentioned the incident until after the game, when Scott took residence on Isaac's bed and left the other boy to sit on one of the chairs. He asked Stiles if he was okay, and Stiles signed he was fine, changing the subject quickly as he didn't want to remember the humiliation he felt back at the diner.

They dropped it after that, resuming their conversation about the game until it was time to go to bed.

* * *

They had two more days until the final match, and Stiles barely had time to talk to Derek. With his days busy and full with Lydia's (and Allison's) plans for the vacation, he only found time for himself at night, when everyone finally went to their beds. Stiles and Derek texted each other every night, telling each other about their day and exchanging sweet, loving nonsense that made Isaac want to puke.

That incident in the diner never came up.

On that night, the gang decided on another movie night. This time, Slashers. Scott complained it couldn't be a Slasher night without some red food (his suggestion of popcorn with a topping of strawberry jam was ruled out with disgusted cried from basically everyone), and so Stiles volunteered to go and fetch some red licorice, red velvet m&m, and a very questionable cherry drink no one liked but Jackson.

He was on his way back to the motel, a plastic bag full of all the red candies he could find hanging from his hand as he just finished writing Derek a text message to let him know he'd talk to him later that night. He pressed 'send', when his eyes caught a movement in the shadows, about fifteen feet from him. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Stiles slowed down, walking suspiciously down the sidewalk, hoping to appear innocent enough to avoid the troubles he knew he usually attracted.

"Well well well, look guys. It's the retard." A familiar voice said, sending chills down Stiles' spine as he saw the bullies from the diner emerging from the shadows, led by that same beefy guy. Stiles tensed.

"You have some nerves, showing up here." He said, his gang circling Stiles, who tried not to show how worried and scared he was. He was alone against four huge guys... he didn't stand a chance if something were to happen. "Can't you understand English? You? No? English?" He mocked, slowing down on purpose as if Stiles was an idiot.

"Are you stupid?" One of the others sneered - a dirty blond with a black beanie - and approached closer to Stiles, looking him over. "Hey. He asked you a question."

Stiles couldn't answer, furious and humiliated, he tried to walk past them, hoping they'd just leave him alone. They didn't, and the black-haired guy with the piercings grabbed at Stiles' shoulder, forcing him to turn around. He smirked at him mockingly.

"What, a cat got your tongue?"

"Look at him, such an idiot."

"Freak."

"You think your chick friend can protect you now?"

"Answer when we talk to you!" Someone pushed him from behind, sending him straight into the beefy guy. His bag dropped to the ground as the guy grabbed his shirt, throwing him back.

And then, everything exploded.

Punches came at him from everywhere, making gasps of pain escape his lips as he tried to fight back, escape, anything. They tossed him around, closing in at him as they screamed insults, calling him a freak, a retard.

And he couldn't tell them to stop. He tried, but his mouth refused to get the words out, and he stuttered and gasped, only fueling the heated names they threw at him.

Everything hurt.

Stiles was scared, panic bubbling in his chest as he realized they weren't going to stop. They kept hitting him, each blow harder than the previous. He stumbled for a second, and they used the momentum to knock him down, adding kicks to the punches. Stiles was pretty sure he cracked a rib or two.

A particularly harsh kick to his stomach made Stiles cry out in pain, and he curled in on himself, clutching his middle. His head hurt. He tasted blood, and even with his eyes closed shut, he could feel how things were getting shady and distant. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't hear himself scream anymore.

Then, everything turned dark.

* * *

_**And if you're still bleeding,**_

_**You're the lucky ones.**_

_**'Cause most of our feelings,**_

_**They are dead and they are gone.**_

* * *

**A/N: **Song used: "Youth" / Daughter.

Warnings: Bullying, abuse, violence, stress. If any of you who couldn't read this chapter because of triggers want a censored summary, just send me a PM and I'd love to help you.

Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think.


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